


Under the Mask

by Silentaria



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: (except everything is pretty much the same as the show), (sort of), Alternate Universe - High School, Bondage, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Identity Reveal, Light BDSM, Misunderstandings, Romance, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2020-03-01 10:00:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 108,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18798091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silentaria/pseuds/Silentaria
Summary: Chat knows. But when he finally tries to tell Ladybug everything goes wrong. Their relationship takes an unexpected turn as the two try to figure out the truth about themselves and each other. But anxiety, depression, akumas, school drama, and life never stop. There are only so many misunderstandings a friendship can handle before things get out of hand.Ongoing. Will update weekly!





	1. Communication Failure

**Author's Note:**

> Brief warning on this chapter for dubious consent in a slightly sexual situation. Viewer discretion is advised.

“I know…I know who you are.”

Panic. That was the first thing Ladybug felt shivering down her spine. But Ladybug was not supposed to panic. Ladybug was a hero. Ladybug wouldn’t let anyone get the best of her.

“What?” She asked, hoping she had misheard. Her face was a blank slate. She could hear him shifting around behind her, clearing his throat, the metal of his boots scuffing the shingles below.

“I know your civilian identity,” Chat Noir clarified.

Rage. It coursed through her veins, warmed her blood. A million thoughts flew through her head. How dare he? She told him not to pry, to keep their identities separate! How could he betray her trust like this? There were a million things she could say or do, all of which Tikki would chide her for. No, she needed time to think. To breathe. She pulled out her yoyo and swung away.

“Wait, Ladybug! We can talk about this!” He called, following her rooftop over rooftop. They had worked together long enough for her to know how easily he’d keep up. Although she liked being in high places she decided to swing down into the streets, hoping to lose him between buildings. She set off into a jog, running between alleys. His yells got quieter. Just when she was sure she lost him and walked out into a dark street, he ran up to her, stopping to catch his breath.

“Don’t…be…afraid,” he said between gasps. She narrowed her eyes. Afraid? Ladybug didn’t have fear, especially not when it came to lying, spineless, cats. He met her gaze and must have seen something there because he took small steps away from her. Ladybug seethed. How dare he run away? Before her thoughts could come together, her yo-yo whipped out, catching him. His eyes widened as she strung him against a nearby lamppost. He had a silly grin stretched on his face.

“Wh-what a _cat-ch_. I’m shocked,” he punned, causing her to pull tight enough for him to wince. She didn’t let up, even as she stepped closer.

“Don’t throw those shitty puns at me,” she snapped. His eyes widened, unused to her profanity, unused to her anger. “You’d better start talking chaton.”

“W-well I w-was _bound_ to figure o-out that you—“

“No names!” She interrupted. “I don’t want to hear you say it.” He opened his mouth and closed it, debating what to say to her.

Ladybug took the time to process what he just said and scowled. “Bound, really? Is this really the time?”

“I, uh, didn’t mean to _tick_ you off?” he answered, his face heating.

Ladybug was five seconds away from screaming in his face. Then she had a better idea. “You’d better start taking this seriously or I will leave you tied up here until the police find you tomorrow morning. We’ll see what they say when they find some untransformed teenage boy Ladybug left for them."

His eyes widened. Even she was surprised by how malicious she sounded.

“I-I’ll stop! Don’t do that!” He begged. “My father would kill me!”

It wasn’t the first time Chat Noir alluded to his father; it was obvious he had “daddy issues”. Ladybug avoided asking so they wouldn’t discover each other’s identity and because he always grew quiet and vulnerable about it. _But that didn’t stop him from prying_ , she chastised herself. “Oh yes, what will your father say if he finds out you sneak around at night?”

Chat Noir shifted at bit, testing the boundaries of her yo-yo’s hold. When first stuck to the lamp post, he hadn’t shown the slightest discomfort or hesitation. Ladybug often used her yo-yo on him in battle and it was evident he trusted her. Now, he was assessing the situation, trying to form some sort of escape. From her. His eyes were watery and she bet his heart thumped in his chest. That fearfulness only increased her confidence. She stood even closer, lowering her voice. “How did you figure it out? Did you follow me? Watch me detransform? Peek at me in that closet? Turn around when I helped you with Antibug? What was it?”

“None of that,” he whispered, looking at the ground. “I just…finally saw you. You smiled and it was just like her. She protected someone and looked just like you.” His voice was tinged with affection. That threw her off.  _Why would he be happy about this?_  

“I guess I thought about it for a while,” he continued. “Before I knew it, I thought about both of you interchangeably. It seemed unfair to keep it to myself.”

Ladybug let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. He had no proof. She was completely unlike her Ladybug persona: clumsy, unconfident, silly. There was no way that he figured her out. No, she knew exactly what this was about. “So what, just because you have another crush doesn’t mean that it’s me.”

_God damned two timer._ Not that she was romantically interested in the slightest. But it hurt to know that someone who constantly flirted with her flirted with someone else. His blush deepened.

“Cat got your tongue, chaton?” she asked, her face hovering inches from his. He swallowed as her free hand held his jaw, forcing him to look at her. For a moment she was lost in his emerald eyes.

“I’m too _stuck_ on you to like another girl,” he finally replied, mischief in his eyes.

“You know what? Maybe I will leave you here,” she replied, releasing his face.

“Don’t! I didn’t mean to my lady!” He squirmed about, looking fearful.

With a smirk, she put her hand on his chest, straight over his beating heart. He stopped moving. “You’re nervous,” she noted feeling the pulse underneath his leather-bound muscle.

“Well yeah. I didn’t expect to get _tied up_ over this,” he replied cheekily. He was growing bolder, but both of them knew who held all the cards. Her hand absentmindedly lingered on his chest. Ladybug decided she wanted more information before she’d make any decisions.

“Tell me more about her. The girl you like who you think is me.”

“Why are you so certain it’s not you?” He dared to ask.

“You don’t know what I’m really like,” she murmured, tracing his chest up to his bell. His eyes lowered, following her hand movements.

“Resourceful, beautiful, kind, always looks out for her friends,” he listed smoothly. “Enchanting blue eyes and cute pigtails. Always running to and from things.”

“That could be anyone under a flattering light,” she replied, mesmerized by the way the cord of her yo-yo tightened over each breath his chest took.

“As flattering as this one?” he murmured, looking up at the light of the lamp post.

“Do you flirt with her like this?” She asked, a finger slipping under a cord. It pinched tightly. She wondered if he was in pain, if the yo-yo was this tight everywhere. She had him trussed up from chest to legs. Would it leave marks? Or did the suit protect from that?

“Are you jealous my lady?” he asked softly as her eyes traced his whole body. Was her breathing speeding up? Was his? Then she saw it, her teenage brain barely comprehending.

“Are you aroused?” She asked, her voice lifting as she met his face.

His jaw dropped. “What? No!” He protested, squirming around. He looked downward and winced, the truth of the matter in plain sight. Ladybug bit her lip, unsure of what to do, her hand lifting from his chest.

“Look, it’s t-tight and I’m losing circulation. Blood flow and all that,” he argued, growing more embarrassed. All his cockiness was gone. Her hand drifted back on his chest.

“I didn’t expect you to like this. That wasn’t the point,” she replied, flicking his chest. He made a whimpering sound and she realized she hit his nipple.

“D-don’t do that!” He begged.

So of course she did it again. “Here I am trying to have a real conversation with you and all you can think about is dirty thoughts about that crush of yours,” she accused, running her fingers over the tight bud. His breath hitched and she rolled her thumb around.

“That’s not true,” he replied, his voice gravelly. She liked the sound and gripped his pecs.

“My alley cat is also a tom cat,” she murmured, exploring his body.

“Someone will see us!” He protested, squirming beneath his bonds.

“Oh, how embarrassing for you,” she answered, wandering down his stomach, not surprised by how toned his abs were under the cord. “Mangy street cat in heat? What will people think?”

“Ladybug, please,” he begged. She met his eyes, entranced by the tears at the edge of his mask, the red seeping from under it. He was beautiful. How had she never noticed?

“Please, what?” she murmured, face hovering near his.

He whined, shutting his eyes. “Stop!” His chest heaved with breaths, dragging the cord. How long had he been hiding this magnificent and virile body from her? _What was I mad about?_ She couldn’t remember. Her fingers glided over his belt.

“You don’t actually want me to,” she whispered, near his ear.

“Please,” he begged again. Her hand cupped him. He hissed, shutting his eyes in pleasure. She moved her fingers, surprise by how soft the muscle was. In all her imagining, she’d never expected it to feel so warm nor inviting. Moisture began to gather. His hips twitched.

“Marinette,” he moaned in her ear.

Reality came crashing down. She squeaked, drawing the yo-yo back with her free hand. He fell to the floor with groan, landing on his hands and knees. She took steps back, noticing how small he looked on the ground.

Panic settled in again. She ran.

 

\---

 

Adrien woke up in bed, staring at the white ceiling, Plagg screaming for him to turn off the alarm clock. He sat up, cradled his head in his hands and groaned. With sluggish movements he turned the thing off. It had probably been about two hours since he actually fell asleep. Now the sun twinkled in the early morning sky, pouring through his large windows. Plagg, rolled over on his pillow, immediately going back to sleep. Adrien stood up and looked down at his shirtless chest.

_It wasn’t a dream._

Pink lines played across his chest. He swallowed, touching them gingerly. What the hell had happened last night? He’d expected to go up to her, tell her the truth, and then confess his love for her. In his hopes, she confessed her love back. In his nightmares, she revealed her hatred for Adrien made it impossible to work with Chat. It had taken all his courage to finally tell her. He saw the way Marinette looked at him, blatantly avoided him; it was no secret that she hated him. Telling her about her identity meant that he’d have to reveal his. He was prepared for it. Yet that hadn’t happened. Nothing went according to all his planning or his anxieties. Never had he imagined she’d tie him up and cop a feel.

_Ladybug had copped a feel._ A grin spread on his face.

He remembered the heavy-lidded glances she gave him, her shaky breaths against his ear. He’d never really been with a girl intimately, but it didn’t take a rocket science to know that had been intimate. But why? He went to take a shower, worried about the marks. He had a photoshoot that afternoon. His father’s workers would find out. His _father_ would find out.

Water poured on his aching muscles and he stretched, noticing a few marks on his arms. He touched them idly, enjoying the slight grooves. It felt like her yo-yo was still wrapped around him. Like she was still with him. He liked it. His face heated remembering what Ladybug had said that night. Doubtless, she thought he was a pervert. There she was panicking about her identity and he was…how did she put it? In heat. Never in his life had he thought about being tied up as sexual. Sure, he’d heard of BDSM but he knew absolutely nothing about it. Yet just remembering the tight binds against his chest, the loss of breath, the thrill of that exposure, her undivided attention, had him aroused. He quickly brought himself to an orgasm, guilt settling in as he thought about how scared she’d looked when he first chased her. How the hell was he supposed to look at her in class today? What if an akuma attacked? She’d run away and he’d been too shaky, too scared to follow. Everything was unresolved. 

With what little time had before school, he decided to do some research on the internet.


	2. Internet Boyfriend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, chapter two has arrived! No need for warnings, just enjoy the angst!

Marinette paced around her room, her alarm going off to wake her up from the sleep that never came. She bit her nails, whittling them down to almost nothing. Tikki sat on the desk watching with her worry drooping in her eyes. They’d spoken about it. Tikki hadn’t even scolded her. The kwami comforted her charge, explaining it was a misunderstanding and she should talk to Chat about it. That he could forgive her. It was a lie, but a comforting one all the same. She’d thought about going back out in the night and searching for him. Multiple times. There was no way anything would ever be alright. Or the same. What would she even say? 

It was almost time for school and she hadn’t even come up with that. She whined at the thought. If she went to school, she’d run into Adrien. Sure, they weren’t dating or anything—he didn’t even know she existed—but she felt so disloyal. She’d felt another boy up. And enjoyed it. _Why had I enjoyed it?!_ Her maman called from downstairs, reminding her to wake up.

“What if I just never leave my room again?” She posed to Tikki. “That will work!”

“Marinette, you can’t just miss school like that. Think of all the times you miss class for akuma attacks,” the kwami scolded. “It’ll be fine. You don’t even know if Chat Noir goes to your school.”

“He said my name Tikki! He could be in my class!” She squeaked back. Just remembering the way he groaned out her name, so longingly, made her body heat up. The girl he had a crush on was her! But she had no idea who _he_ was. _Did I even want to know?_ She’d felt up a classmate! Just seeing him tied up and vulnerable brought out a part of her she didn’t know existed. It had been exciting, arousing. She bit her lip. She’d said some awful things to him. He’d begged her to stop. Tears gathered in her eyes as her emotions flooded her once more.

“Tikki, I’m a monster,” she sobbed, stating this for the fifth time since the incident.

“Marinette, you are a hero,” she argued, waving her tiny arms. “So maybe you weren’t so, um, _nice_ last night, but you were just nervous. I’m sure if you two talk it out it will be okay.”

 _Like this can be resolved!_ “Okay? Tikki, I made him cry!”

“So? Boys cry too,” Tikki replied, her tone growing more firm. “Just go to school already.”

\---

Adrien gripped his elbows. _Why isn’t she here?_ Usually he felt oppression just from sitting in front of her. It was exhilarating. He constantly wondered if he looked too stiff, if she saw the doodles on his notes, what she was whispering to Alya about. Now he was feeling that anxiety and she wasn’t even there! Did he scare her off last night? Come on to strong? He frowned. Technically _he_ hadn’t done anything. All he wanted to do was talk. _No!, I didn't do anything wrong, s_ _he was the one who—_ he cut those thoughts off again.  _I can't think about that at school!_  

“Dude, you okay?” Nino asked, that worried look on his face again.

“Yeah, just thinking about that test later today,” Adrien smoothly replied, quickly recovering. As a model, pretending had become his most valuable skill. He donned the mask, the civilian, and kept the wild flurry of emotions inside at bay. He had to.

“Shoot, I forgot about that!” Nino groaned, leaning on the desk with his head in his hands. Just as Mendeleiev finished calling attendance, Marinette skid into the room. Her hair was haphazardly tied in its usual pigtails, her eyes held dark raccoon circles, and it was evident she’d forgotten her make-up. With the two hours he’d managed to get in, he wondered if she even slept at all.

“Ohmygosh I thought I still had time,” she was saying to Mendeleiev, laughing nervously and flailing her hands about. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Just. Sit. Down.” The teacher scowled, pointing at her empty chair. Marinette fluttered by him, already biting her nails again as Chloe made her usual remarks and Alya began her interrogation. Luckily for Marinette, she was late so often that today didn’t really stand out as extra-ordinary. _No one else knows what we did..._ The small part of him wondered if it even _was_ extra-ordinary for her. He didn’t know her life. She’d made that abundantly clear last night. For all he knew she had tons of experience with boys. Ladybug sure seemed like she played femme fatale in her spare time.

“You didn’t sleep at all?” Alya whispered furiously. “Girl, what were you worried about?”

“The uh…test! Yeah, I didn’t study,” Marinette replied. He could picture that small smile she wore whenever she lied to Alya. Did she realize Alya probably knew too?

“Did you ever think you might do better if you spend your time actually studying instead of worrying about the fact you hadn’t?” Alya deadpanned. Alya was an excellent friend—he knew how great she was because Nino wouldn’t stop gushing over her—but sometimes her tough love seemed a bit too harsh to Adrien. In book in anime, friends were always supportive and he assumed that was normal. Not that he really had much experience in the friend department. Ladybug had made that abysmally clear.

“I know,” Marinette sighed, deflating. “I just start thinking and then it doesn’t stop.”

At least the two of them had something in common. Besides dressing up as animal superheroes and sneaking out in the middle of the night anyway. His eyes wandered up to the chalkboard and he began diligently writing notes. When he first started school he struggled with multi-tasking. Alya always talked about interesting things like Ladybug and comic books and he was desperate to figure out anything about his friends in class. But now he could confidently say he was a master note-taker and eavesdropper. His lady would be proud.

Well, if he wasn’t eavesdropping on her.

“Oh~! You were thinking about him again?” Alya jeered, leaning close to her desk partner.

 Ah, yes. If the whole secret-identity wasn’t enough of an obstacle, there was the mysterious boy-crush Alya alluded to. At first, Adrien had thought it was a joke. Marinette was confident and brave, totally the type to come forward and confess her feelings. Not like him with his awkward flirting and shitty puns. Once he got to know her better, however, he quickly realized she was a buzzing ball of anxiety and stress. He could imagine her going straight up to a boy and accidentally asking him to marry her, spouting off dating trivia and whatever other information flooded into her brain. _If she did that to me I’d put a ring on it in seconds._

“No! Yes…gosh, how can you always tell?” Marinette whined.  _I wish I could tell,_ he mused, wondering if that would just make it hurt more.

 But since she didn’t act flirty with anyone in class he could only assume her crush was someone outside of school. Maybe a customer from the bakery or a neighbor. He’d eliminated the boys in the class since she treated them all the same: friendly competitiveness and her positive helpful can-do attitude. Even the way she treated Chat Noir was similar, which meant she at least thought of her super-hero partner as a friend: that is what he told himself on really depressing nights where her usual rejections made him feel completely hated.

Except she did hate him. The only boy she treated differently was Adrien. Every time he tried to approach her, help her, talk to her, she got flustered, refused to meet his eyes, made excuses to get away from him. He considered himself lucky that she was kind enough tolerate his presence and not yell at him again like she did at their first meeting. Whatever it was about him, maybe his awkwardness or his fake-pleasantness, she surely despised him. He'd thought knowing he was Chat Noir might make up for it. Now, he wasn't so sure.

“Girl, I’m not blind,” Alya was laughing, finally finished her teasing. “What are you feeling disloyal again because of your new internet buddy?”

Adrien perked his head up. _Since when does she have an internet buddy?_

“No, nuh-uh, of course not, I don’t think of him like that.”

Adrien gripped his pencil tightly, trying to convince himself that being jealous about a girl he wasn’t even dating was creepy and clingy. She had every right in the world to crush on her mysterious school crush and new internet boyfriend. _Then again, if she has a crush, maybe she shouldn’t be forcing herself on people,_ he thought bitterly, wondering what bothered him more.  _For someone with a crush on someone else, she was super into feeling me up!_

“Something happened with him last night, didn’t it?”

“…yeah,” Marinette whispered, the sound close to his ear. He shivered, realizing that she was resting her chin on the desk behind him. He could turn around and they’d be close enough to kiss.

“Come on,” Alya sighed. “I can’t help you if you don’t give me something to work with.”

Her words trailed down his spine. “He knows who I am.”

Holy shit, she was talking about him! _He_ was the internet friend. Did that mean that Marinette have a crush on Chat Noir? She did compliment him a lot to their classmates, but he always thought that was a motherly pride for her dopey partner sort of thing. As Ladybug she’d complained plenty of times about people treating him like a crappy side-kick and never giving him any credit. Actually, that time when he’d joked back and said it was all true was the first time she’d ever yelled at him. 

“Dude seriously?” Alya squawked rather loudly. “Did he track your IP? Oh god, is he leaving you shit at your door or something? We gotta call the cops!”

“Alya, is there something you’d like to share with everyone?” Mendeleiev cut in. Alya blustered some excuses and remained silent for a while, letting Mendeleiev’s attention get diverted once more.

“He goes to this school,” Marinette finally offered up, showing a bit of cleverness. “And we talk about normal stuff; it’s not that hard to figure out who someone is. I guess he just figured out me.”

Marinette defending him was pretty much the last thing he expected. A little satisfied smile made its way onto his face. Nino leaned back in his chair.

“So do you know the dude?” He whispered, joining the conversation with that ease that always made Adrien feel a little bit envious. “Don’t tell me it’s Nathaniel again. Between this and the akuma I am going to start believing you two are destined.”

Honestly, Adrien had first wondered about him as the viable crush candidate. Before he knew Marinette was Ladybug he thought they were a well-suited pair for each other: two artistic imaginative people with a mutual dislike of Chloe. But then there was the fear that spiked in Marinette’s eyes when she went on her date with the evillustrator, the relief in her face when she saw Chat Noir. He bet it was super awkward for her to call him up and ask for protection like that. Looking back, he realized she placed a lot of trust in him by putting her identity in his hands.

“It’s not Nathaniel,” Marinette groaned. “Seriously, Nino, it’s already embarrassing enough for him that Chloe gets on his case, you don’t need to join in as well.”

“So who is it?” Alya pursued, like a dog chasing a ball.

“I don’t know,” Marinette muttered. What would she think if she knew he was sitting right here?

“You didn’t ask him?” Nino sputtered. Mendeliev gave a short ahem and he jolted forward in his seat, sputtering off an overtly wrong answer if her glare was any indication.

“Let me guess. You logged off before he could finish explaining and blocked him,” Alya mused. Of course Alya, with her near perfect grades and sharp eye would figure out her friend in a heartbeat.

“Basically,” she sighed, close to his ear again. “I just…I didn’t want to know okay? I _liked_ things the way they were.  I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

The seeds of guilt crept into his heart when he heard the defeat in her tone. How many times had she insisted that their identities must be kept secret? _Was that why she got so angry?_

“But what if it turns out better than what you have?” Alya persisted. “Your buddy could hang out with you off the web and meet your awesome best friend.”

“It’s not that simple—” Marinette started, then stopped. “He doesn’t actually know me. Once he figures out who Marinette is he’ll change his mind about me.”

“That’s not true.” The words escaped his lips before he could stop them. “If he knows you well enough to figure out who you are, then he obviously thinks very highly of you. There’s no way you’d be a disappointment to him.”

There was a long pause behind him. Nino shot him a smile and a thumbs up. Ever since Adrien had confessed his desire to be friends with Marinette, his bro had been full endorsing every endeavor.

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Alya replied, recovering first. “Why don’t you go talk to him and see what he has to say? I’ll come over and sit with you if you want.”

He heard a small thud that could only be her forehead hitting the desk. “I did something bad.”

Adrien felt himself flush, guiltily thinking about how great “bad” was. It had been so wrong, but … Not terrible. Maybe if he'd been more prepared or if they talked about it first. What even was the normal way to go about that? What little he read on the internet didn't really talk about how to get started. There was no one he could talk to about it anyway. If word got out that Adrien Agreste was ... The girls probably told each other everything, but would Marinette tell her about that? When he heard the scratch of pen on paper, he realized the conversation had gone to non-verbal.

_Damn._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We started off with a boil but now we're back to simmer as the story earns its slow burn tag! 
> 
> The timeline for this story in comparison for the show is a bit weird so don't think too hard about it, but you can assume Marinette and Adrien have never actually gotten past the stuttering phase, which is why he still thinks she hates him. I know this was a popular theory back with season one and I've always thought it was interesting to explore so here we are. 
> 
> I hope you guys like it! Alya is always a blast :). See you next week!


	3. Partners First

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go!

So, Marinette had to totally flub the truth and get Alya off the scent before her lack of a filter got her in trouble. Somehow she spun a story where she called her internet pen pal a whole bunch of mean names, using her lack of self-control as an excuse. By the arch of her brow, it was obvious that Alya didn’t believe it. But, being the truest of friends, she still gave advice for the fake scenario, insisting Marinette go and apologize for hurting her friend’s feelings. Tikki basically said the same thing when she got home, reiterating that she should ask if he was okay and at least try to listen to what he was trying to tell her in the first place.

Marinette’s logic: “Okay, but he knows who I am so he can just show up here if he wants to talk to me right? Do I really need to go meet him tonight?”

“If he shows up here then you’ll get scared and just say more things you don’t mean,” Tikki concluded sagely. “Plus, I doubt he’ll come to you after what happened.”

“ _Right_? Because I totally molested him!” Marinette cried into her pillow. “I don’t even know what came over me. I like Adrien, right? Right???”

“Marinette, you can like more than one person,” Tikki informed her patiently for the 100th time.

Her laughter became almost manic. “So anyway, he’s not going to come here, and I’m not going there. We’ll just see each other on akuma attacks and pretend it never happened and it will totally not be awkward because we’ll be too busy fighting crime to think about it right?”

“Marinette, just go,” the little kwami sighed, shaking her head. “The sooner you talk to him, the sooner you can come back home and drink some hot-cocoa, okay?”

Marinette lifted her head from her pillow. “I think I actually failed my test today.”

“Marinette…” Tikki exhaled, patting her forehead. “Come on, we’ll practice what you are going to say one more time and then we’ll transform and go to the patrol spot.”

So, after three blubbering attempts at apologizing for over-reacting and begging for him to forget who she was and keep their relationship the same, Marinette found herself suited up and swinging from the Parisian buildings. Her plan was to run through her speech one more time on the roof-top before he got there. But, despite their meeting time being midnight, there he was at 11:15, swinging his legs over the street below, looking like a poster-child for calm and well-adjusted.

“Chat,” she grit out, standing beside him, fists clenched tightly as she tried steel herself for what needed to happened.

“So I looked up some things on BDSM today,” he blurted, sending all her practiced dialogue down the metaphorical drain of her mind. She blinked, opening and closing her mouth.

“And I’m totally okay if that’s what you are into. I’m _a-frayed_ it’s _knot_ something I’ve considered before, but last night really _chained_ my perspective.”

Ladybug wondered how long it took him to come up with those considering BDSM puns were probably not in his normal repertoire. “You really think this is the time to be joking?”

Chat still hadn’t looked up at her, his clawed finger-tips gripping his knees. “I had a feeling you’d worry about that and think there was something wrong with you. So, I just wanted you to know that there wasn’t. If you are into that sort of thing.”

Ladybug sighed, sitting down beside him. “I restrained you, threatened you, and then assaulted you. Of course there is something wrong with me.”

“Assault? That’s definitely not what it seemed like last night,” he started, brow drawn.

Then, the dork that he was, he giggled. “Gosh, I never thought I’d say that to you.”

She let out a frustrated groan. “Why are you like this?”

“Humor is a defense mechanism,” he answered flatly, surprising her. She side-eyed him, watching him turn away as he bit his lip. It struck her then that her partner was probably just as nervous and scared as she was. Ladybug crossed her arms, feeling safer within them.

“Fine, Chat. What did it seem like to you?”

“Like two _purrfectly_ compatible friends discovering a kink together.”

“That’s not a normal friend activity Chat.”

He kicked his legs casually. “Neither is vigilantism, yet here we are.”

Ladybug scoffed. “This isn’t a hobby. If I hadn’t been roped in by Tikki, I certainly wouldn’t be swinging around fighting bad guys every day.”

There was a gleam in his eyes. “Whose Tikki and why is she _roping_ you? Should I be jealous?”

“She’s my kwami asshole! And I don’t have a BDSM kink!”

Chat Noir seemed to contemplate something, ears and tail twitching. “Then … why?”

“I just came here to apologize,” she announced flustered and ready to leave, standing up. “I want us to pretend last night never happened and resume fighting akuma. Can we do that?”

“Of course,” he answered softly, a petrified smile on his face. “I just wanted to make you feel better.”

Ladybug shook, knowing her anger would solve nothing. “By making fun of me?”

He met her gaze. “By letting you know I was okay talking about it."

“I’m a superhero, I can’t like that kind of fucked up shit,” she growled, palming her yoyo. Her intuition was telling her he wouldn’t let this drop. _Maybe I’ll hide out for a few weeks and he’ll forget._

“I’ll admit,” he swallowed, rubbing his neck. “It was a bit…startling. But it was _knot_ bad.”

Ladybug could read between the lines enough to know that still didn’t mean good.

“I think maybe we should try again,” he blurted, staring up at her with those emerald eyes. “Like, with privacy and time, you know. I don’t like being on view for the world.”

Ladybug arched her brow, thinking perhaps that the danger of voyeurs watching them wasn’t what truly made him uncomfortable. He liked playing with the press and sneaking on cameras. Then there was the way he threw himself in battle, running head first into enemy fire with that excited gleam in his eyes. The same gleam reflecting through the darkness now.

“Wait,” she stopped her train of thought. “Are-are you asking t-to…”

She thought maybe she was Marinette when she whispered, “do it again?”

“Can we?” He grinned, with that model-like smile. _Oh shit._

That fact that she even contemplated saying yes terrified her. She turned away, gripping her yo-yo hard enough to break. “I can’t do that. I already have someone I like.”

“I know,” he sympathized, voice fading.

“How do you know?” She squeaked, turning around. She’d expected him to look disappointed or hurt. Instead he looked carefully neutral, fiddling with his claws as he tried to find an answer.

 

 ---

 

The only way he could explain how he knew she was in love was the fact that he sat in front of her. She was too subtle about her crush otherwise. And after the way she handled her own reveal, he wasn’t too keen to start another, especially with her being so…volatile.

“Of course, you know,” she sighed at the silence. “Everyone does. God, I’m pathetic.”

As Adrien, he was out of the loop on a lot of things. People didn’t necessarily find him friend material. Whether that was his father, or his association with Chloe, or his own bland personality, it was hard to say. But the fact that everyone in his class knew something about his lady that he didn’t really irked him. As did her own dejection.

“Does _he_ know?” He probed, hoping she might at least drop him a name.

“No, thank god,” she muttered, sitting back down beside him. It was almost like a normal patrol. They’d stop and break, talking about their problems in the vaguest ways, pep talking each other through another hard day. Sometimes it was the only thing that kept him going.

Chat Noir frowned. “So certain he’ll reject you?”

“I mean, he’ll be nice about it, he’s always nice. But I’m not exactly girlfriend material,” she blabbed, confounding him. Was she not aware of how many boys in their class had crushes on her?

“Plus he’s like…you know…a little out of my league.”

“My lady, you’re a crime fighting superhero … _he’s_ out of your league?” he chuffed, already irritated at whoever the hell thought she wasn't good enough for him. Even if she wasn't Ladybug, she was still class president, had a decent online commission store for her clothing, had prize winner bakers for parents and could cook with them, won a fashion competition, created an album cover for Jagged Stone, and managed to be friends with almost everyone she met. Hell, he wasn't even sure he could measure up to that. 

“Most guys don’t like that sort of thing,” she pouted. Before he could argue, she continued, “Not the superhero thing, the whole girls being stronger than them thing.”

Chat furrowed his brow. Being a model who spent a good part of his life in isolation, he wasn’t quite up to speed on what young men were supposed to and not supposed to do. “But why?”

“They just don’t,” she huffed, rolling her eyes. “Guys don’t even like the fact I play video games.”

“Or they just can’t stand losing,” he chuckled. “You have a vicious counter cycle.”

Ladybug stiffened, turning to him with alarm in her expression. For a moment, it was almost like she’d forgotten about the identity reveal; the usual panic of hearing one too many details seizing her. But then she breathed, letting go and turning her gaze back to the Seine.

“If you can’t be yourself around him, then why do you like him?” Chat asked quietly. He didn’t understand her. The reason he liked Ladybug, besides the fact that she was beautiful and strong and funny, was the fact that she liked him too. At least, in a friendship sort of way. She let him make puns and joke and even if she pretended to be annoyed, she still _let_ him. That was important. He wanted it to be like that for her too. It was what finally made him approach her.

Ladybug finally spoke up. “Look, I appreciate the fact that your being supportive, Chat, but I think things were better before. I want you to pretend you don’t know me.”

God, he didn't understand her.

 

\---

 

He paced back and forth on the roof, trying to calm himself, uncharacteristically angry from her request. Ladybug watched, fascinated by the indecision in his posturing. She could tell he was upset, but he wasn’t going to say why. Now, that she thought about it, she'd never really seen him angry. Maybe annoyed or agitated, but he quickly subdued that with one of his stiff smiles and banter. When he finally spoke, his voice was small, subdued. “You don’t want to know my identity? It’s only fair.”

“No, I don’t,” she snapped immediately. “You can’t even be sure you know mine!”

His glare surprised her. “We’re past the point of denying who you are Marinette.”

Hearing that name, in this costume, in this night, _their_ night, shook her. “Don’t call me that.”

“For the record, I’m glad it’s you,” he continued, as if she hadn’t spoken, staring down at the city. “I always wondered if Ladybug was just an act, something you felt you had—“

 “Ladybug is an act!” She shouted through the panic, feeling it seize her chest, her brain. “You don’t know me!”

 He stood his ground. “Then show me.”

Something deep inside her trembled and despite the authority she’d tried to maintain, she found herself breaking down. _I'm supposed to be Ladybug, damn it!_ Tears bubbled and pouring and she keened, stepping away from him. “I don’t want to, Chat! It’s not fair! You weren’t supposed to know!”

At this point she was a broken record and she knew it. He stood close enough to be felt but didn’t dare touch her. Her shoulders shook. “No one was. What if Hawkmoth finds out? What if he attacks my mom, my dad, Alya? Or me? He’ll take Tikki and then I’ll be—”

Nothing. Without the mask she was nothing.

“I’ll protect you,” he answered with an intense quiet she'd only ever seen on the edge of battle. “And everyone important to us.”

She turned and pushed him away. “But if I’m gone who will protect you?!”

His face did something strange then. He looked younger, sweeter, and different somehow. Yet familiar.

"My lady, I think you’re focusing too much on things that haven’t happened yet,” he said, abruptly avoiding her gaze. “No one knows but me and I won’t tell anyone.”

“I know you won’t!” She snapped, covering her face with her hands, knowing it was too late to hide. It was already enough that he knew she was Marinette, but now he had to watch her break down in person. She’d probably lost all his respect; why would he ever listen to her again?

“But I’m standing firm on not pretending,” Chat Noir declared, crossing his arms. “This is a good thing. I can support you this way.”

Ladybug looked between her fingers, her eyes tightening into a glare. Was he … talking down to her? God, she was right! He already saw her as some fragile, feeble-minded—

“That’s what partners do, Ladybug,” he continued confidently. “I know you’ll support me too.”

 

 ---

 

Chat felt his ears flatten against his head. As usual, things were going the exact opposite of how he wanted and now Ladybug seemed broken.  _Why am I so bad at making her feel better?_  She’d slid down on the roof, her legs giving out, tears still glistening down her otherwise blank face. He’d thought about just giving into what she said, placating her as he did his father, but just as much as she was fighting the changes between them, he was also unwilling to yield.

Maybe he didn’t know her. But he knew himself.

_And she likes me,_ he asserted, chasing back the doubt in his heart. She'd looked at him like he mattered and that meant something.

“Chat,” she finally uttered, her voice hoarse.

He knelt down to her level. “Yeah?”

“How has Hawkmoth not sent an akuma after me?”

He grinned widely and replied, “Because you’re _pawsitively_ perfect.”

Even under the mask her eyes looked sunken and dead. “Why do I even bother?”

“Because I’m _clawsome_?”

She snorted, wiping her eyes. “I need a tissue.”

“Sure, let me just go—”

She reached out with her other hand, grabbing his arm. “Don’t. I’ll lose my nerve.”

He stared at her hand, then at her face. It was drenched from tears and it took him a full second to stop looking at the way her teeth nervously nipped her lip. Sensing they might be moving somewhere he sat down, crossed his legs, and stared at her expectantly.

“Can you … can you just turn around?”

Chat raised an eyebrow but slowly rotated, having a feeling his normal pun or flirtation would set her off again. Plus, he wanted to prove himself. That when she was sad, he’d be there. Even if he had no idea what the hell he was doing.

“I’m sorry,” Ladybug whispered. He wanted to reassure her, but she kept going.

“I meant to apologize for yesterday and promptly started yelling at you today. I panicked and I hurt you. What really sucks is that I didn’t stop to even think about how you were feeling about all this. You didn’t have to tell me you knew; you could have lied to me.”

“You hate liars,” he answered automatically.

“Chat,” she reprimanded flatly, making him grin wider. “I’m trying to say something.”

“Right, sorry,” he choked, trying to remove the grin she couldn’t see.

“You knew I wouldn’t like it and you still tried to talk to me,” she continued, her hand landed on his shoulder pooling warmth. “I shouldn’t have attacked you or yelled at you. It was terrible of me to start touching you like that; especially when you had no way to stop me. It just happened and I was so mad at you and I ….”

“It’s okay,” he encouraged, waiting for her to go on.

“I’m really sorry, Chat. You just freaking came out of nowhere and I overreacted because I was … You won’t tell anyone, I know that, I just … I was thinking about myself but I should have been thinking about Ladybug and Chat Noir. No matter what happens we've still got akuma to catch. Thank you for giving me a second chance.”

Chat furrowed his brow. He definitely wasn’t so selfless as she was portraying him. Maybe if he had thought past his initial excitement and his desire to date her, he might have come up with a better way of letting her know. Some sort of method where she was ready and calm.

“We’re partners, Chat,” she said, scooting forward and hugging him. His heart beat rapidly, enough to make his chest feel like it would burst. “I should have trusted you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, they talked, bittersweet and erratic though it was. Of course, all of this just raises more questions, but that's the fun of it I guess. 
> 
> Thank you all for the support so far. It's been a lot of fun sharing my writing and I can't wait to see everyone's reactions as the story keeps progressing. I look forward to reading the comments for this chapter.


	4. Shoujo Manga

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story continues...
> 
>  
> 
> Warning for slightly sexual content. Avert thine pure eyes.

Marinette found her way back to her bed, her body feeling so tense and tired it was like she’d just been beaten up by an akuma. It’d probably been three days since she’d gotten decent sleep; everything was finally taking its toll. The pressures of being a superhero were almost worse than actually doing heroic deeds. Even though Hawkmoth was mysteriously less active at night, it was really the memory of the day that kept her awake. But somehow her mind was mysteriously at ease as her head hit the pillow and Tikki doused the lights.

_Everything is fine,” Chat said, feeling so warm in her arms as she pressed against him. “You can do whatever you want.”_

_There he was, making his strange suggestions again. “I don’t know what I want.”_

_Why was he so toned? She’d never thought herself that interested in muscles; she’d always been fond of pretty slender boys, but lord he felt amazing. She dropped her chin on his shoulder and sighed. She could hold him for hours._

_"Er, LB?” He asked, stiffening as her breath hit his ear._

_"What?” She asked, opening her eyes, noticing his claws trying to hide his lap._

_Oh, come on, Chat!”_

_"I can’t help it!” He sputtered, trying to wriggle free. “I don’t get hugs from pretty girls all the time, okay? I’m a teenage boy!”_

_Of course, just when she was starting to think he was … he had to! She pressed down on his shoulders, putting him in place. “Are you really so pent up? Is that why you were so desperate for a re-run? Sorry, kitty, I don’t do casual.”_

_"_ Chat _ual you mean,” he mangaged, under the pressure. Her fingers dug into his shoulders and as much as she reveled in the feeling, she wanted to go back to that hug they shared. Body to body. Their hearts so blended who knew where one stopped and the other one started. Not that she would ever admit to that._

_"Maybe we should talk about this another night,” he wavered nervously. “You’re stressed; I’m stressed. It’s late. We’re on a roof. I need to go home.”_

_Ladybug frowned. “Why so you can use me to rub one out?”_

_“Wh-wh-what are you saying?” He asked, voice breathy, the rise in his chest tantalizing. “Geez, bugaboo!”_

_Her hand ran down his back, cinching his waist. “I’m right aren’t I?”_

_He whimpered, cat ears going flat. “Teenage boy, okay? It’s not my fault you wear spandex.”_

_"And you wear leather,” she retorted, as if that mattered._

_“Yeah, but you don’t—” Then he grew quiet. “Unless you do?”_

_Ladybug took the dive, grabbing him by his hard-on. “We’re talking about you, kitty.”_

_His breath seized. “Fuck, too hard, LB.”_

_“Are you?” She purred, even as she loosened her grip. Her palm felt warm, the sensation unfamiliar. “Just the same as before … to think I just left you there like this.”_

_Her wrist rotated with each slow caress and his head knocked against hers. She watched her movements, entranced, wishing it wasn’t dark, that he wasn’t wearing black, that she could_ see _just exactly what she hadn’t seen before. Watch, not just feel, his breaths rising swiftly._

_"That wasn’t very nice of me was it, kitty?” She soothed, her other hand riding up his chest. Her fingers gripped the zipper of his suit, playing with it. “Heroes are supposed to give helping hands.”_

_"I woodn’t—” He flinched as she gripped fiercely._

_"Was that a pun?”_

_"No,” he lied._

_"Because I would think that with me being so nice, you’d quit it for once,” she bantered, lightening her grips. “But, oh well, I can always stop.”_

_“Don’t stop,” he whispered, sounded wrecked. “Please, please, don’t.”_

_Her hand left his zipper, wandering up his chin, gripping it to look at the tears in those beautiful eyes. Her own body trembling with equal parts of excitement and fear as he gazed up at her in wonder._

_"Marinette.”_

_Wait, no, something wasn’t right. Why would he call her—_

“Marinette!” a tiny voice shrieked in her ear. She jolted up, falling off the bed, her legs tangled around her body pillow as it saved her from the fall. With a groan, she peeled herself away, immediately noticing an unusual feeling between her legs.

Then the sound of feet on wood, and a door creaking open.

“Marinette, are you up yet?” Her mom called.

“Fuck.”

 

\---

 

Adrien rose at the crack of dawn which, considering he barely slept that night, was not really a feat at this point. He’d been too anxious about Ladybug, wondering what the hell was going through her head. Admittedly, it was nice being hugged. She’d reminded him of his mom and made him feel warm and wanted. But it was weird for her. It wasn’t like she didn’t have plenty of affection in her life and half the time she was mad at him. Yet, she’d just held him, shaking and silent, for what felt like blissful hours. Then, after apologizing again, quietly left.

“I don’t get girls,” he muttered at his reflection, brushing his teeth. Thank god Plagg was still sleeping. He’d already mocked Adrien about the lamppost incident and probably had words about Ladybug’s freak-out last night. Interestingly enough, Plagg had made no real comments or insight on Marinette being Ladybug when he'd first excitedly suggested it. Which, despite his devil-may-care attitude, was unusual for the nosy kwami.

 _Maybe he already knew,_ Adrien reflected, dressing himself for the day. As usual, Adrien was the last one to know everything. _Well … I guess not anymore. She still doesn’t know who I am._

The longer it was taking to tell her the truth the more hesitant he was becoming. Logically, he knew that she didn’t want to know and learning that he was a boy she hated would only distance them. Emotionally, however, he secretly wanted her to be excited it was him. How great would it be for someone to actually light up when they saw him? Or to feel like the moment was his and that no one could fill in his spot? Maybe it was being a clothing rack all day, but he did feel … replaceable.

He started putting stuff in his bag, the plan growing more firmly in his mind. Then, he woke up Plagg, smiling as the kwami groaned.

“You stay out all night and you wake up super early! How am I supposed to get my cat naps?” Plagg cried, clawing at the air. “Where’s my cheese?”

Adrien dutifully handed him a wedge. “You can sleep at school.”

“Where you fidget around while Ladybug talks about her “online” boyfriend?” Plagg teased, inhaling the entire wedge. “Forget it. I gotta make sure you don’t get akumitized and stomp through the streets in a jealous rage. I expect extra cheesy payment for my bodyguard duties.”

“You _are_ tired,” Adrien said sympathetically, patting Plagg's round head.

“Yeah, and whose fault is that?” Plagg grumbled, floating up off the pillow. “Why didn’t you just tell her as Adrien? We would have avoided all this trouble.”

“ _You_ would have avoided it,” Adrien quipped, grabbing his bag and school supplies. “Besides, who is Marinette going to trust more? Her partner or a stranger?”

“Okay, you _know_ you aren’t a stranger. You sit in front of her in class. You share the same friends.”

Adrien shared most of his life with Plagg, but he tried to keep the fact that Marinette hated him to himself. Plagg would never let it go. “You know what I mean.”

“I’m just saying, Ladybug wouldn’t have attacked _you_ ,” he said with a devil may care attitude. Adrien was tired enough that slide; he didn’t want to waste time arguing how Marinette could just as easily kick his butt. Plus, they’d have to actually talk about what happened that night. Plagg wavered around his bag, then stared at the clock.

“What?! It’s too early! Adrieeeeenn!” He whined.

 “No, it’s not, we got some errands to run first.”

Plagg’s eyes widened in horror. “I thought that cheese was too easy!”

“Claws out!”

 

\---

 

By the time Marinette got to school, she had calmed down her anxiety, styled her hair, and plastered on a fake smile. All she had to do was just get through the day and then go home and catch up on some of that precious sleep. She found herself avoiding meeting anyone’s eyes, as if someone could just look at her face and think,

_"Oh, look there’s dirty Marinette who dreams about forcing herself on boys!”_

God, she’d never thought so much about sexual deviants as she had in her unusually long walk to school. It terrified her how easily she blended in, how she was supposed to be a superhero that people trusted. Just how would they feel if they knew what she was like inside?

Luckily, she made it to her locker without any commotion.

Unluckily, what waited for her inside stirred a lot of commotion.

               _To the best purrson in the world,_

_You don’t ever have to apologize to me. Have a clawsome day!_

Her hands had quickly seized and crumbled the note, but she couldn’t do anything about the yellow roses pouring out of her locker and piling around her feet. The first person to notice was Rose, who squealed and excitedly asked her who the lucky guy was. Next thing she knew, everyone was surrounded her with a large cacophony of congratulations and teases. Then Alya parted the crowd with an icy glare that would give Hawkmoth a run for his money.

The bell rang and they had to scurry to class. She shrunk in her seat, face burning as the jeering and compliments continued pouring in. Chloe, at least was acting normal,

“Oh whatever, so Dupain-Cheng has a Dupain-lame boyfriend,” She stopped for a second, laughed and then told Sabrina, “Did you hear that? I’m hilarious!”

“At least someone is getting flowers,” Alya snapped back, as Marinette shrunk further. _How could he do this to me?_ The worst part was that she didn’t even have a boyfriend, just an overly-apologetic stupid side-kick! _This is why we shouldn’t know each other’s identities!_

The teacher quieted them and then Alya sprung to action.

“Okay, what was that all about? Why didn’t you tell me you were serious?”

“S-serious about what Alya?!” Marinette stuttered, looking down at her paper, hoping the white void would swallow her up.

“You said he was a friend,” she continued, counting her fingers. “Then you blocked him. Then you made up. Then he sends you flowers?! You didn’t tell me you were flirting with him!”

“I wasn’t flirting with him,” Marinette squeaked, face burning. Okay, _sometimes_ she flirted with him, but that was how superhero stuff worked. You acted confident and traded jokes and some of those jokes just happened to be compliments that might be construed as—

“No,” Alya whispered, gripping her pencil tightly. Her eyes took a killing edge. “I’ll kill him. Give me his IP. We’ll find out who stalker boy is in a heartbeat and—”

“Oh god Alya, stop,” Marinette protested, causing the teacher to hush her. “He’s not a stalker and he’s not my boyfriend. He just got me flowers to be nice because he knew I was stressed.”

“First of all, guys don’t just get girls flowers,” Alya snapped, steadying her breath as she came down from the high of her rage. “Secondly, they don’t fill your locker with them; that shit gets expensive. Third and final, you don’t get friends ROSES!”

 “Well, actually yellow roses are a flower of friendship,” Adrien’s voice said softly, turning his head slightly towards them. “They usually are used for an apology.”

Marinette felt the rushing blood of embarrassment drain from her face in horror. She’d been so caught up in her dream about Chat and then the stupid roses, that she hadn’t thought to consider what this looked like to Adrien. Not that they were dating but like … a guy had brought her flowers after she met with him in the night after they'd cuddled and had sordid dreams about him.

This was bad, so, so bad.

“Oh really?” Alya drawled, zeroing in on him. “Where’d you learn that?”

“My secretary has to send them out to people all the time,” Adrien replied back with a  nonchalant shrug. “When schedules get changed, shows cancelled, you know. It’s just good manners.”

Bless Adrien Agreste and his perfect face and perfect words and god if she could kiss him—

“For working professionals maybe,” Alya surmised, then her brain jumped again. “Oh god, you don’t know who he is. Girl, what if he’s a teacher?!”

“Alya is there something you need to share with the rest of the class?” Ms. Bustier asked, trying her best to sound stern, even as a smile cracked. Alya slouched in her seat and muttered out a soft no. The lessons resumed and the day slowly thrummed back to normalcy. 

Not that it stopped the inquisition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another slow chapter but we're getting there. 
> 
> As usual Ayla's fun to write; especially as she investigates with what little knowledge of the situation she has. Plus we got some Plagg!
> 
> Let me know what you guys think in the comments!


	5. Empty Classroom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Biweekly updates!

Adrien was starting to think the flowers had been a bad idea. He’d just woken up, remembered how Ladybug had cried and held him, and wanted to do something to brighten her day. Something that was obviously Chat so she’d know things were okay with him. If only he’d had Alya to tell his pitiful home-schooled self that flowers in lockers were the type of ridiculous stuff you saw in manga.

How utterly humiliating.

Ladybug already knew Chat liked her so she probably took this as him trying to convince her to date; how could he have not seen that?! She’d already told him no and their relationship right now was … rocky. He’d hoped with time and getting to know each other she’d change her mind but maybe he’d just ruined his chances. _God, I am so dumb._

“I’m just saying, you need to talk to him,” Alya was still going on. “Maybe he’s a NEET who never leaves his room and doesn’t know that normal people don’t do these things. Or maybe he actually is a creepy stalker. Either way, you need to make the boundaries clear. Not interested.”

“It’s just we finally stopped fighting and I don’t want to hurt his feelings,” Marinette answered nervously, stirring a warm feeling in his chest. He wondered if some part of her at least recognized what he meant, had felt appreciated when she opened that locker. Maybe even decided it was nice that he could reach out to her civilian form.

“Plus, he did get me flowers … no one’s ever done that for me before.”

Adrien frowned; she deserved get flowers everyday. He wondered how hard it would be to keep a flower handy as Chat Noir. But he had a feeling that Ladybug might get annoyed from that, especially since he knew he’d be obligated to follow up with garden and bug puns.

“…you like him,” Alya accused in disbelief. “You wouldn’t care if he figured out who you were unless you cared what he thought. You’re always a nervous wreck around A, uh, th-that guy, so it only makes sense. You little player, you.”

Adrien snorted, sharing a look of disbelief with Nino. His look stemming from the fact that no way Ladybug had a crush on him and Nino’s probably from the amusing image of kind, quiet, Marinette two-timing. Then again … she _was_ really popular with the boys in the class. Even Nino had liked her at one point.

Adrien knew jealousy was a petty toxic feeling. But damn.

“As a friend. I mean, come on, Alya I don’t even know who he is.”

_Not like you gave me the chance,_ he thought bitterly. _Not that it would fix things._

Alya only grew more determined. “I’m just saying girl. A certain someone isn’t getting the hint and this boy is at least into you. Let Mama Alya meet him and we’ll decide on the wedding date.”

Marinette busted out laughing, “No way you two are going to be left alone together!”

Bustier finally separated them—“It’s for your own good. You can go back to your seats when you calm down”—and Adrien hoped that Alya hadn’t noticed the distinction when Marinette let down her guard. Because Alya _did_ know Chat Noir, as well as his undying love for Ladybug, and it wouldn’t take long for her to put two-and-two together.

 

\---

              

Marinette had made it through the school day—not akumatized, thank god—but still blasted with question upon question about her internet boyfriend. Apparently, the class had heard enough of Alya’s ranting and no one would let her hear the end of it.  _This whole thing is stupid._ It wasn’t the first time someone had made a grand romantic gesture in their class: look at Ivan or Nathaniel.

Yeah … Nathaniel had let up and they went back to being normal with a week. He’d even become her friend; though he’d be doubly pissed if he found out she was also his new crush Ladybug. Thank god he was spending more time with Marc. Meanwhile, everyone acted like it never happened. So, it stood that if she just waited it out the whole flower incident would be forgotten.

Or so she thought.

Before she could even leave the building, the oh-so-familiar sound of screams and destruction rang through the school. This was her least favorite part of the whole superhero gig. She could never just turn it off. No one cared that she had a stressful day or that maybe she wanted to go home in sleep. Ladybug just had to step up. She ran back through the building, finding an empty closet.

“Let’s do this!” Tikki shouted excitedly, pumped.

"Spots on!”

The quad was covered in green vines in flowers, twisting and growing into a fairy tale garden. Ladybug swung up on the roof, not at all surprised when a certain feline joined her.

“Ladybug, I just want to say—”

“Akuma first,” she grit out, wanting to so desperately hold her temper. He looked so meek and she _hated_ that. She didn’t have time to think about what his flowers meant or why he seemed upset. Ladybug had a job and that job involved stopping students from getting turned into flowers. God, her life was so weird.

“Love me!” The akuma screeched, a ridiculous looking fairy, swinging a thorny whip. Ladybug swept closer, jumping across the roofs. Chat Noir followed her.

“Wow, talk about a _thorny_ situation,” he quipped, kneeling like the cat he was. “This will get dangerous _floral_. Let’s not _leaf_ her to it.”

"Do you just make these up on the fly or do you spend valuable time studying and filling your brain with that crap?” Ladybug scowled, the question rhetorical.

“I strive to entertain _mew_ ,” he said with a paw tapping his face, looking adorable. _Scratch that._ Chat did _not_ look adorable, especially when she was still angry with him. He immediately, straightened out when he saw whatever hell she unleashed with her face.

“A combination of both, my lady.”

The fight was over in a flash, just like they always were. Alya appeared, mentioning she’d overheard the girl crying because she heard about the flower debacle and she wanted her boyfriend to give her flowers. Ladybug surmised the flower trough she was skating around in was actually the girl’s locker. Once lucky charm and cataclysm later, they had a flash-frozen flower woman and a broken locker.

One purified akuma later and they had a couple expressing their newly invigorated love for each other. Ladybug almost gagged as they swung each other’s arms.

“I thought I was coming on too strong! We only just started dating!” The boy cried.

The girl commiserated, “I couldn’t even tell we _we’re_ dating!” Then the smooching began.

“Aww,” Chat gushed, leaning on his baton. “They look so happy.”

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” she muttered. His ears flicked down at that.

“It’s not like you haven’t caused an Akuma,” he stated calmly, his expression growing dangerously neutral before returning back to that sly grin of his. “And _lilac_ ’d any knowledge of her so you know it was an accident.”

Ladybug’s brow furrowed because he was right and she knew she was being mean and she was so fucking tired and frustrated. Then his miraculous began to beep. She took out her yo-yo.

“Can we meet somewhere?” He started, hopeful. “I don’t want to leave things like this.”

“I don’t want to know who you are,” she hesitated, imagining where this may lead.

“Okay, thirty minutes, retransform and meet in the empty classroom they’re remodeling. We can probably get in through the window,” he shot out quickly, as another beep sounded off.

Ladybug wanted to just forget it but then again, she needed to make sure he didn’t do this sort of thing to her again. And she might as well do that while the anger in her veins still gave her the courage to confront him. “That’s … surprisingly well thought out.”

“Been thinking about it all day,” he chirped, with a wink before vaulting off.

 

\---

 

Chat Noir was surprised to find Ladybug already sitting in a desk before he even climbed through the window. He’d only added an extra time stipulation to give her a break; he’d given Plagg some cheese and immediately swung back into the school, sending his bodyguard a message that he’d gone out with friends. The plan was to wait for her and think about what he was going to say.

Or for her to just not show up at all.

She looked weird sitting at the desk. Softer, more Marinette, her had propping her face, her eyes staring out the door as her shoulders slumped with defeat. As he walked over from the window, he realized she was almost dozing off, her face slowly teetering towards the desk.

“My lady,” he called quietly, hoping to not startle her.

She jolted up, straight out of the desk.

“AHH!” Then scrambled, arms flailing as she tripped over the chair. Chat couldn’t help it.

He laughed.

“Oh, don’t start with me!” She grumbled, pouting from the dusty floor. “Help me up.”

“With _purr_ sure,” he teased, holding out his hand. She seized it, standing up to awkwardly dust herself off. He dropped his eyes, giving her time to compose herself.

“It’s so dusty in here. Why’d you pick this place anyway?” She complained, sneezing. His heart sung as she made a soft mouse sort of sound. _Does she have to be so cute all the time?_

“It’s quiet, private, and sometimes I hide out here when the pressure gets too much.”

Ladybug looked at him thoughtfully. “Should you have told me that?”

“You aren’t going to come hunt me down, are you?” He provoked, knowing the answer. Hoping he didn't. She frowned, shoulders broadening as if she were going to call him out on that challenge.

“What kind of pressure?” She asked, instead, surprising him. It wasn’t that Ladybug was thoughtless or mean but she didn’t often ask him questions about himself. Especially like this. She was dealing with her own stress, too focused on the moment to notice wallflowers wilting.

“Being a superhero and student isn’t easy, no matter how you _slice_ it.”

“I know that,” She sighed, kneeling down to pick up the chair. “I’m always late to class, I never get enough sleep, I have to lie to my friends. It just sucks.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, knowing how many times she’d lied to Alya. “Well, if it makes you feel _butter_ , you make it look like _a piece of cake_. You’re amazing.”

Ladybug stared at him, intensely, like she was solving a complex equation, her mouth slightly parted as she barely breathed. Then she shook her head, and said, “We can complain all day but I really need to talk to you about the flower situation.”

“No need, Lady-bee,” Chat Noire answered immediately, waving a flippant hand. “It was foolish and insensitive of me, fur real. I caused you a lot of trouble and could have exposed your identity; which I _puuromise_ to never do. I hope you can _furgive me.”_

“ _You don’t ever have to apologize to me,_ ” she muttered, crossing her arms. “A bit strange thing to write to me, don’t you think? Especially since you still get to do it all the time.”

Chat Noir felt uneasy. He’d thought he’d gotten pretty good at identifying her moods, but the dejection in her expression just wasn’t like her. Yeah, she was probably running on fumes, but that was kind of her normal. Usually the puns got her to smile or at least pissed her off a bit. This was weird. “It’s only because I’ll always forgive you.”

“You know I don’t like liars,” she answered bitterly, softly, holding herself.

She almost sounded depressed; it reminded him of himself. Not Chat Noir, trusting and brave as he waited for judgement, but Adrien alone at night remembering how meaningless life was without people and laughter to fill it. Knowing he still had to live through it anyway. He didn’t say anything. Didn’t know how.

“I thought about your offer,” she finally added, still as a statue.

“What offer?” he ventured, confused. Did she want to know about his identity? A panic spread through him. She was already upset; imagine what would happen if she saw Adrien…

That brought back some spark. She blushed, grumbling out, “You said you wanted privacy and time. We’re alone in a classroom. Read between the lines.”

His heart stopped. _Is she asking for what I think she’s asking for?_ Like, sure, he’d looked it up the other day and offered because hell yeah, he was so, so down, but he hadn’t actually dreamed … And, _oh¸_ she was looking at him, _really_ looking at him, those blue eyes almost anticipating.

But why now? Did her crush react badly to the flowers? Was she heartbroken?

_Oh_. He really didn’t like that. Being a rebound; the second option. That stung.

“What happened?” He asked, biting back the raw emotion in his voice. He turned around, feeling so stupid because boys, superheroes, were not supposed to cry, damn it.

“I’m not,” Ladybug started, then stopped again. “I’m not doing well. Lately … this has been a lot. But when I think about that, I mean, you probably think I’m a pervert but …”

Chat Noir held his breath, his whole-body clenching for the blow.

“I’ve had dreams about you.”

The breath released. _What?_

“Fuck, I didn’t mean to said that,” Ladybug cursed, groaning. She muttered to herself a bit, debating something, before I finally confessing, “Look, I don’t know why but it’s been on my mind and somehow … with everything that's going on ... I think I really need this, Chat. I think that _we_ need it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this a good idea? What will they do now? Find out next chapter!
> 
> Hope you guys like biweekly updates. I felt like the pace was unbearably slow, especially considering the length of the chapters. Posts will be on Wednesdays and Saturdays!
> 
> As always, I appreciate your comments!


	6. Field Test

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it begins...

How did one begin to explain to their partner, and all that word entailed, that there was a certain order to things? That he had barged in and broken that order and she was still reeling? That it wasn’t really about the lust—because, okay, it kind of was—but what she really wanted was to go back to the way they were. That without the safety of anonymity, all the boundaries that protected them needed to be rebuilt.  Even though this was the weirdest fucking solution it was the only one she had.

“Okay,” he breathed, shoulders relaxing.

“A-are you sure?” She asked, scared of what she would do. It was one thing to imagine it. Another to actually do it. “Because if you changed your mind that’s okay. I don’t want to pressure you or anything because you seem kind of nervous and I don’t know what I’m doing and this is probably not normal by any means—”

“It’s fine,” he answered, turning around with that stupid cat smirk, the light dancing in his eyes. Ladybug’s face burned from her growing blush. Of course, he was all smug about it, hearing that she basically couldn’t stop thinking about his hot bod. _Typical boy._

“We probably need some rules though,” he added, holding his claws together, looking shyly at the ground. “So, we know what to expect and stuff. Things like safe words and all that.”

That … was actually a great suggestion and one she should have suggested first. You know, being the dom, it was kind of her job to make the rules, right? Not that she knew anything, she probably should have done more research beyond a few google searches but she’d gotten too nervous about accidentally finding porn and oh god she’d been quiet for too long.

“Akuma could work,” she laughed, awkwardly. “Always freaks me out.”

“Um, maybe something not related to work,” Chat suggested softly, tail curling around his leg. “If that’s okay? Besides, who knows, we might role-play, right?”

Holy hell he could probably tell she had no idea what she was talking about. She hadn’t even considered that sort of thing. _How can he even trust me to do this_ _?_ “Uh, yeah if you like that sort of thing. That should definitely be a rule. Only doing things we like.”

“Or think we might like,” Chat added immediately. “Because I don’t actually know.”

“Yeah, for sure,” she echoed laughing and probably sounding crazy.

“I’ve heard people use a red-yellow-green system,” he offered, extending his hands. “So like red is a definite no, and yellow is like maybe, and green is good? I mean, you can make a better word later once we get a better feel for what we’re doing.”

Then he laughed. “ _Feel_ , you get it?”

“Oh, hah hah,” she snarked, surprised he’d waited so long for a joke. “Well, I can work with that. Is there anything else or should we just start? Anything you don’t want me to do?”

“Wait, now?” Chat Noir asked, looking around the dusty darkening room. That made her uneasy. She kind just wanted to jump into it, get out of the crazy spiral in her head, figure out the truth about all of these feelings. But not if he didn’t want to. She had already forced herself on him once and she never wanted to do that again.

“O-or later is fine too,” she hedged, plastering on a reassuring smile. “We need time to prepare anyway and should probably write down more rules and—”

“Now is fine,” he interrupted firmly, holding up a clawed hand. “More than fine.”

Well, this was it. This was really happening. She was going to hell.

And apparently taking Chat Noir with her.

 

\---

 

“Well, sit then,” Ladybug requested, turning around to pull the chair out from the desk. She stood behind it, gripping the metal frame, looking intense. It was the same look before she faced an akuma.

He obeyed, a thrill chasing up his back. Ladybug had been dreaming about him? Ladybug _needed_ Chat Noir? Whatever was going through her head was beyond him but what he _did_ know was that this was something more than just frisking a friend. The way she unyieldingly looked at him, like he was the only person in the world, did not a rebound make.

Until he knew what that look meant, he was willing to play.

“Do you know why I’m upset with you today?” She started, fingers tapping his shoulders. _Oh, we’re scripting something?_ He smirked, knowing how she wanted him to play. She’d never admit it, but he’d seen the way she got with dangerous akumas. As Chat he couldn't be too meek or patient. Ladybug didn’t like reticence.

“Why? Should you be?” He asked innocently, looking up at her. Her hands gripped his shoulders, fingers slightly nipping, making him wish his leather wasn’t so tough.

“You caused an akuma,” she said lowly, sending warmth pooling in his stomach. “And almost exposed my identity. You think that’s acceptable behavior for a miraculous holder?”

“Ah, bugaboo, we already decided I had nothing to do with the akuma—”

“ _You_ decided,” she snapped, jolting him. It didn’t really hurt, just reminded him of her solid weight behind him, trapping him. “But you want to know what I think?”

Her breath touched his ear. Was she leaning over the chair, that pert ass defiantly in the air?

“You just wanted attention.”

He shuddered. Her voice was like liquid gold.

“Didn’t you?”

“That’s not it, my lady, I only wanted—”

She tugged his bell up, the cold metal touching his throat as she forced him to look at her. “Didn’t you?”

Here went nothing. “I wanted to make you happy.”

Her grip softened and she let go. He took a breath of relief as she walked around the chair. No ... strutted. Ladybug was strutting like a model on a catwalk her hips swaying erotically, calling him.

“You know what makes me happy?” She asked, sauntering towards him. Her foot stamped on the side of the chair, causing him to tighten his legs together as he jumped. She leaned down, bringing her chest almost eye level, before grabbing him by the jaw.

“What?” he breathed, excited. Unbearably so. Her yo-yo shot out and she pulled back, rolling the tight cord around his torso, binding him to the chair. She yanked, causing the chair to scrape against the floor. The sound echoing down the hall.

_Shit_ , he flinched, looking toward the door. Ladybug followed his gaze then looked back, the cords of the yo-yo wrapped tightly in her fist.

“The truth, Chat,” she demanded, pulling tighter, the binding squeezing his ribs. He sucked in a breath, bowing down his head, biting his lip. It felt so, so tight. Suffocating even.

“I wanted you to think about me,” he confessed breathless, “when you’re happy.”

The binding loosened as moved forward again, yo-yo curling with each step, her eyes glittering. “Poor Chat, meowing loudly like a stray, waiting to be stroked and loved.”

That analogy resonated with him. Was he really so pitiable?

“Let’s be really clear,” she said softly, squatting in front of him, meeting his dropped gaze. “You don’t get to manipulate or coerce me. You _ask_ me for what you want. Like a good kitty.”

The way she purred that last bit made his whole body hot, burning enough to swallow him. His breaths were already ragged. But seeing her below him, talking like a sexual fantasy, almost stole the oxygen from his brain. She wanted to know what _he_ wanted? Did he even know what he wanted? He certainly hadn’t asked for or expected this. The plan was to reveal their identities, fall in love, and live happily ever after. Like in books and movies. But when he tried to envision what that looked like…

“I don’t know,” he whispered, feeling his eyes sting. _Oh god, don’t cry, not now, don’t ruin the mood!_ Thoughts of her intentions plagued his mind like a poison and he suddenly wondered if maybe agreeing to this was a very bad idea.

 

\---

              

Ladybug stared up at him, noticing his eyes glistening beneath the mask. _Tears? Is it too tight, did I hurt him?_ She almost pulled back the yo-yo but then she remembered the words. He could talk: if he wanted her to stop, she would. He had to know that, right? She wanted to ask, just call it off, but was that what a dom was supposed to do? Would he be disappointed in her? Was she doing this right? If Chat really wanted to be a sub, then maybe he  _expected_ her to make him cry. And yeah, she'd hurt him before, lashing out without meaning, but this was different. Now, she had to _mean_ it. 

She didn’t know much about sadism or even if she was a sadist, but there was only one way to find out. “I think I know what you want, Chaton.”

Her hand gripped his knee, rubbing up his thigh, familiarizing herself.

“You want to be punished.”

His eyes widened, darting between her hand, her face, his torso, the door.

“You did a _bad_ thing and all the guilt is eating away at you,” she continued, bravely, splaying her fingers on top of the cords on his chest. “Pressing against your chest like a dead weight.”

“Or a hairball?” he whispered, almost amused. She grinned at him, their faces almost inches apart as she found herself crawling up his body.

“Like another worthless apology,” she answered, pulling the cord sharply. He let out a small yelp. “But you can’t forgive yourself, can you? That’s why you want me to do it. You want me to take responsibility for your own guilt. You want me to take the blame.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he wheezed. She let up again, worried about his lungs.

“I’m tired of surprises,” she continued, standing up, confidence burning. Because he was watching her, not staring off into the distance, not covering his expression with a smile, not hiding his words for jokes. “And yelling and feeling like I’m going crazy. You don’t get to do that to me anymore. Hold up your hands.”

He bent his elbows, struggling to get his arms higher than his lap. “What now?”

Ladybug flipped, her wrist, loosing the yo-yo enough to walk over to the desk, to find the ruler she’d been absentmindedly thumbing while waiting for him to appear. The same one she’d experimentally slapped her arm with, remembering old stories of school marms. Before she grabbed it, she released her yo-yo, giving him one more chance to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I know general consensus was the last chapter felt rushed. I hope this one and the next one will justify that a bit. Just like with chapter one there is just as much going on here internally. Let me know your thoughts in the comments!
> 
> Also, yes, I made a chapter break in the middle of a scene ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). How thrilling.


	7. Corporal Punishment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title should be warning enough. Also some ableist language.

With a loud zip and the rush of air collapsing in his lungs Chat Noir realized he was free. _No, just unbound,_ he reasoned, holding his hands in the same position. Subs were supposed to obey orders and she’d explicitly told him to hold up his hands.  Therefore, he had no choice but to continue doing so.  No, that wasn't right either. He _did_ have a choice. He could walk away right now and end it. 

Instead, he watched as she leaned over the desk, giving him a view of her ass as she reached over it. He bit his lip to hide a moan. She could have easily walked around the desk to reach into the drawer. This was purposeful. His lady was playing with him, every single movement, every phrase, strategically thought and placed. He’d seen it as soon as they’d started, then sudden confidence, the ease in her demeanor. Ladybug had thought about this whole scenario before even entering this room.

_Was this what she was thinking about in class all day?_ The thought made him shake: imagining her sitting behind him, biting her eraser between those plush lips, thinking lewd thoughts about the next time they were alone together. His body trembled, desperate to move. Ladybug kept her movements slow and languid as she drew a ruler from the desk and glided back toward him, holding the bendable plastic between two hands. Her eyes were taking in his steady form and he wondered if she noticed how still he’d stayed. If she liked that.

“Do you know what this is Chaton?”

 “A ruler,” he answered, reticent. Then, thinking better of it, “I’ve got enough _inches_ , unless you’re _plotting_ something else, bugaboo.”

Her arm came crashing down, the ruler slapping the edge of the seat between his legs. The sound was deafening. He froze, imagining what would have happened if she aimed higher.

“Teachers used to use these to punish bad students,” she said conversationally, like she hadn’t done anything remotely threatening, bending the ruler between her fingers. “They’d hit lefties, hoping to whack the curse right out of them. Do you know what happened when they did that?”

Chat swallowed. “People learned to use their right hand?”

“Exactly, Chaton,” she praised, warming him, even as she lightly tapped her palm with the plastic. “People _learned_ to be _better._ That’s what punishment is for.”

“So … you’re going to make me … better?” he ventured, taking that into consideration, trying to understand her angle. He’d seen the way Marinette acted when their class talked about this months ago, raising her hand indignantly, going on about how terrible that was and how those teachers should have been fired. Chloe had even made a joke about it, causing Marinette to jump up from her desk with anger. He’d remembered everyone being wowed by the meek art girl going on a mad tirade while he’d sat there thinking how damningly similar to Ladybug she looked and if only they were the same girl.

Then he wouldn’t feel bad about wanting to kiss her.

“Mhm,” she affirmed, drawing the ruler against her lips. “Every time you do something bad, instead of fighting with each other, I’ll punish you. Do you understand?”

This was another rule but she wasn't setting it. This was a negotiation. It hadn’t escaped his notice how her gaze wavered away, her voice lost its strength. He could cut her off right now and stop this out of control spiral they were falling into. There was no way he could do that. Not when she was waiting so expectantly. Because she wasn’t just talking about today.

She was talking about a future.

He raised his hands up slightly. “I understand.”

“Five lashes and you’re going to count them.”

_I can do this; she_ wants _me to do this._ “Yes, Ladybug.”

The ruler came crashing down, slapping his palms and cracking against the leather. Pain laced through him. He let out a cry, fingers straining to stay unclenched.

“One,” he groaned, meeting her eyes. She smiled, looking so lovely and proud. Then she hit.

The second time was almost easier. He knew the pain, expected it, overcame it. “Two.”

“Why am I hitting you?” She asked soft as silk.

“Because I sent you flowers.”

Then, out of nowhere another whack. _Fuck,_ his mind scrambled, his hands throbbing. He had no idea how fucking sensitive his fingers could be. How long would they hurt? Would this bruise?

_Oh god._ This could bruise him.

“Not the flowers, Chaton, the meaning. You wanted attention, but couldn’t ask for it,” she insisted, not backing down from her original assumption. “How many was that?”

“Th-three,” he winced, the quickly blurted, “I really wanted you to like them.”

Ladybug breathed in, her brow furrowing, and then SLAP. Biting through the leather, his fingers beginning to curl as tears finally broke from his eyes.

“You did it for yourself.”

“Okay, okay, I did it because I wanted you to like _me_ ,” he agreed, desperately, voice growing hoarse. “Next time I’ll ask what I can do to make things up to you instead of making assumptions.”

“How. Many. Hits,” she grit out, ignoring his yammering. His mind felt hot. Had they done three? Or four? Fuck, please let it be four, he could do one more, just one more left.

“Four,” he breathed, knowing the fifth would follow. Ladybug’s fingers traced his palms, riding up from the edge of his wrist to the tips of his fingers, almost as if she could clasp hers between his. Every movement resonated, feeling so, so soft and great and god he was so hard. Just holding her hands felt like heaven, fucking hell.

“You were bragging,” she stated, leaning to whisper in his ear. “Look, I know who you are. Only me. Your identity is mine. You belong to me.”

He shuddered, thinking _yes, yes, yes,_ until he realized she was talking about herself. About him.

His eyes followed her as she pulled back to stare at him and she was so beautiful and he knew he was an absolute fucking wreck covered in tears and blush and lust and shame. God, the temptation to kiss her was almost as strong as the throbbing in his palms. He wanted to pull out those pigtails, run his hands through her hair, take her tongue—

“If you really wanted to apologize to me, you wouldn’t have involved Marinette and the rest of the school. That’s not how we work, is it, Chaton? You leave Marinette alone, you understand?”

_“You are Marinette,”_ he wanted to cry. _“I like Marinette. I like you so so much.”_

But this was a game. A game with rules. “Yes, Ladybug.”

The edge of the ruler brushed against his palms, a brief warning before she pulled back, before the plastic descended for one final blow. “Five...”

His head bowed, even as his hands remained open and waiting. Completely chained.

 

\---

 

Ladybug watched him, exhilarated breaths burning in her throat. Her body was warm and wet. She knew, without even looking, her nipples were straining against her suit and if his face wasn’t bent over in pain, he’d know it too. Her body, more than the excitement in her blood, the racing of her thoughts, delivered the confirmation she wasn’t ready to face.

_I’m a sadist._

But did he like it? He’d been crying. Big delicious tears that made her want to lick his face just as much as they made her want to apologize and run away. But then his breaths were rushed, his erection straining against his suit. His emerald eyes darkened with what she was coming to recognize as his own desire. Even though he’d never voiced it, she just … knew.

Tentatively, she reached to stroke his hair. He stiffened, remaining hunched over as she massaged around his cat ears. Her fingers danced back to lightly scratch his scalp. Their bodies were almost touching as she almost straddled the chair to whispered in his ear, “Good counting, you were amazing.”

Her heart was gushing and she couldn't stop it. “You didn’t even move the whole time; you took your punishment so bravely.” She lowered her hands on his back, drawing him forward, settling on his lap to wrap herself tightly around him. Fuck, he felt so amazing, so hard and warm and god she trembled as she was rubbing her cheek against his.

“You’re such a good kitty, Chaton.”

Chat let her, his arms slowly moving up to return the embrace. Slowly, he settled against her, nuzzling the side of her neck, letting out a large breath of relief. All the tension rising in his muscles released, and she melted with him. Whispers played against the spandex of her neck and he groaned as she massaged his shoulders. The sound was so raw, so male, and she wanted, oh she wanted …

_No, focus,_ she chastised herself. “Was that okay?”

“Amazing, my lady” he purred, rubbing his cheek against hers. “Or should I say my mistress?”

Her laugh was almost silent, the sound puffing against his ear. “Stupid cat.”

There was a sound pulling at the edge of her thoughts, steps clamoring down the hallway. A voice called from the darkness that had started to overtake them.

“Anyone there?”

Ladybug jumped, pulling herself off him in milliseconds, staring at the silhouette of security guard lit by his flashlight outside the window on the door. His keys jangled as the knob rattled.  Her heart lept out of her chest, her thoughts racing as her body froze. _He heard us._ _He knows. Everyone will know. Everyone will hate me._

“The window,” Chat uttered, grabbing her by the arm, taking her out of her panic. They jumped out it, zipping up to the roof, crouching in silent terror. Ladybug listened as the man walked through the room, closing the window, muttering about “darn kids and their pranks.” But even that affirmation of his ignorance didn't quell the fear.

It was minutes before he was gone and Chat let out a deep breath. “Holy shit.”

“You can say that again,” Ladybug whispered. “We’d better get going. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, part of the whole hero gig,” Chat shrugged, “No time for privacy.”

It was weird seeing him so relaxed, like the classroom had never happened or they were meeting up for another akuma battle. “Are you … will you be okay getting home?”

“I’ll be fine,” he smiled broadly. “It’s cute that you’re worried though.”

“Hey, you were the one blubbering, not me,” she snapped, feeling embarrassed. In the Paris air, with the cool of evening all around her everything came crashing down. _I’d climbed on him like a cat in heat! I hit him! I said all those weird things to him!_ Not to mention her family had no idea where she was and it was almost dinner time and she needed to help them with the bakery stuff. They were used to her being late with all the unexpected akuma fights, but they were easily getting tired of her excuses.

_Oh god, I have no excuse for this,_ she bemoaned. _What have I done?!_

“Uh, hello, earth to Ladybug?” Chat was saying, waving a hand in front her face.

“What?” She asked, jumping back.

He had a saucy grin. “I asked: when’s the next time?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We got through our first official scene! It was probably shorter and less sexual than everyone was expecting but what can I say, there's a reason this is tagged slow build. They aren't ready for hardcore yet haha.
> 
> I'd just like to say that I have nothing against lefties and that Ladybug was being a little shit. 
> 
> Please comment! I always enjoy feedback :D.


	8. Solitary Confinement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of reflection on what happened. No warnings needed.
> 
> Except, I guess, Ayla/Nino in the background for those who aren't into that.

Adrien turned the knobs on the shower, letting the cold water pour over him as it slowly warmed. He looked down at his chest, smiling at the almost familiar marks of her yo-yo, touching the lines with the pads of his fingers. He didn’t know how to tell her but he _really_ liked being bound. Especially when she played with the tension, tightening and loosing, giving him the illusion of control. His was grinning so hard he worried his face would stay in that goofy position. His hands touched his cheeks, hyper sensitive. He’d been amazed how much he could feel with just his hands. As heavy as those moments had been all she’d done was slap his hands, with his suit on no less, leaving a red brand that would probably fade by the next day.

_I don’t really want it to fade,_ he thought with a frown, turning his hands over, staring at his pink palms. He liked being able to look and see that confirmation. That Ladybug of all people had chosen to touch him. He wanted to carry that brand as a precious secret. Ladybug had been so cool, almost another person, reminding him of the unrealistic expectations he’d had of her back when it was just a crush. _Not so unrealistic,_ he teased himself, remembering her commanding presence. How funny it had been to see the difference on the rooftop.

_“N-next time?! I mean, I don’t know I’d have to prepare more— I mean not that I’d really, you’re so easy to … you know what I need to go. Mom and dad are going to kill me and this is so, so strange and see you like maybe never? Sorry!”_

_He’d grabbed her arm as she tried to launch her yo-yo. “Everything is fine. We’re fine. Right?"_

_“Y-yeah,” she uttered, blush growing as she stared at his hand. “Look, some of those things I said, I mean, I was just looking for excuses, right? Like you don’t have to take it seriously—”_

_“I liked it,” he admitted, still reeling from the fact that he’d enjoyed her strange accusations. Enjoyed getting thrill of getting caught. It made him think about every “kind” deed he’d ever done, made him wonder if perhaps he was more selfish than he’d ever believed._

_“I’ll try to be more careful with your identity in the future. I guess flowers aren't your—"_

_Ladybug cut him off. “They were really pretty and I know you didn’t mean it that way and it was kind of a nice surprise and if everyone hadn’t made a big deal, I—”_

_Second guessing herself, she shrugged out of his grip, throwing her yo-yo out._

_“They were nice, okay?”_

Adrien leaned against the tiles, trying not to laugh like a madman. God, she was so cute and stubborn. Zipping away in a rush of fear as if he could do anything to her. He’d contemplated chasing her down, knocking on her rooftop, letting her know that he wasn’t done with her just yet.  _Woah, where did that come from?_ He took a deep breath, turning off the icy water. There was so much he had to catch up on; he didn’t have time for flights of fancy. Instead, he put on some pajamas, toweled his hair, and walked into his room where his dad was sitting on the couch.

“Father!” He yelped, jumping. His eyes scanned the room for Plagg, hoping he hadn’t been caught. The kwami had dropped the transformation and floated away, muttering about needing sleep, the same way he always was. As long as they were pretending, Adrien was fine. Just like how Adrien pretended his dad cared about what he was doing.

It didn’t mean he expected him to show up in his room.

“Natalie said you missed fencing and Chinese today,” Mr. Agreste drawled, legs crossed comfortably. _Geez, is this some kind of business meeting?_ Adrien thought sourly, wondering if he should keep standing there like an idiot or pretend to do something important.

“Well, an akuma attacked the school and the fencing class all ran off,” he lied effortlessly. “I’d gotten a little lost and it took me awhile to get back. I got sweaty from all the running, so…”

Those cold eyes assessed him, “No one saw you come through the front door."

“Oh, yeah I went through the back so I could get a snack,” he replied carelessly. Then blanched, realizing what he had just said. His father stood up slowly.

“You have a regimented diet because you are a model. You can’t just keep raiding the kitchen—for cheese of all things—and sneaking in extra meals at school. Already you—”

“My weight is fine,” he snapped, growing self-conscious. Ladybug had touched his body. What did _she_ think? “I’ve been exercising a lot.”

“That’s another issue,” his father continued, towering over him. “Muscle gain is still weight and you’re bulking up way too much for the amount of energy you expend.”

“Yeah, but,” he started waving his hands. His dad caught his wrist and his heart stopped.

“What’s this?” he asked, softly, eyes narrowed. _Fuck,_ he flinched. It felt wrong for someone else to see, to ask. This was Ladybug’s mark, not—

“Adrien?”

“I fell!” He blurted. “I was running from the akuma and caught myself on my hands really hard.”

“Hm,” he father murmured, dropping the wrist. He put his hands behind his back, which usually meant some sort of ultimatum was happening. “I don’t know what you’re really hiding Adrien, but the excuse of akuma attacks can only work for so long. Don’t disappoint me again.”

 He bowed his head. “Yes, father."

 

\---

 

Marinette had somehow spent another night almost sleepless. Her parents hadn’t been mad, they  _never_ were, just happy that she’d been safe from the akuma attack. Alya had sent her a massive explosion of texts and only chilled out after Marinette finally texed back and  lied about turning off her phone. She’d rushed around doing her homework and chores, doggedly ignoring Tikki’s tiny interjections of, “Marinette we need to talk.”

After dinner she’d had no choice. After all, she and Tikki lived together. Plus, Chat probably had to talk with his kwami about whatever the hell they were doing too. It wasn’t a superhero thing and she didn’t want to hear how disappointed Tikki was with her or that what she did was wrong. Because Chat said they were fine. She wanted to be fine.

“I just think you are a little young for it,” Tikki began primly, crossing her arms. “And inexperienced. You could really hurt him without meaning to. You don’t know him well enough to gauge his limits.”

Marinette almost wanted to snap that she did, they’d fought side-by-side for so long, what she was doing wasn’t worse than commanding him to distract enemies and risk his life. That the cat miraculous pretty much set him up for pain. That at least she didn’t almost kill him. But she knew Tikki was right and she was way too embarrassed to say anything.

“So, if you really want to do this you need to spend more time researching it,” Tikki continued on, tapping her laptop authoritatively. “You could have cut off his circulation using cord on his chest like that; humans are very fragile. You need something softer.”

Marinette’s eyes bugged out, looking between the kwami paw and her keyboard. “What?”

“It's very important you be safe, sane, and consensual,” Tikki continued, like she was reminding Marinette to do her homework or something mundane.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Tikki started to repeat herself and Marinette cut her off. “No, I heard you, just … I thought you were going to tell me to stop or something.”

“Holding the miraculous already tampers with your everyday living,” Tikki sighed, floating to sit on the desk. “I don’t think it’s fair to tell you how to live your life when this is obviously something you really want to do. Especially if Chat wants it too. We just need to find a way to help the two of you do things right, okay? As your kwami I’m supposed to support you.”

It was like a weight had been lifted off her chest. Tikki had always allowed all her eccentricities, made her feel like she was a decent person. Someone who deserved a miraculous.

“Tikki, you’re the best!” she cried, letting her defenses crumble. Tikki floated up to pat her head consolingly, murmuring sweet nothings until Marinette calmed down.

“Besides, it’s not like you’re the first Ladybug with a kink problem.”

So that was a thing, apparently. Tikki just went back to snacking like she’d not just dropped a major bomb and Marinette spent about an hour staring at her homework before she gave up and went on her computer. Then she made the mistake of looking up BDSM. The images floored her. She’d known she was a visual person—it came with being an artist—but to actually see the reality of what they were doing? Naturally, nothing really matched what she was looking for—search terms like “light bondage” and “maybe doing BDSM”—everything was either hardcore or grossly sexual.

Which like, yeah, they hadn’t even taken off their clothes. Eventually she’d have to come to terms with seeing him naked. With maybe him seeing her naked. At what point did that cross the friendship line? Like, she could acknowledge because of their weird lives some things were acceptable, but what the hell were they doing with each other?

Could she still reasonably love Adrien while domming Chat Noir?

But when she laid in bed, it wasn’t the multitude of questions that haunted her. No, it was remembering the little moans he made in her ear, his voice grating out those numbers, his body hard and giving under hers. Not even the guilt from touching herself thinking about it that kept her staring at the ceiling.

It was the exhilaration.

Naturally, she slumped her way into class, feeling dead as can be. Alya showed sympathy, offering to help her study, getting excited as she showed pictures of Ladybug’s fight yesterday and teasing Marinette about the akuma she supposedly caused.

Marinette snorted, and Alya noticed.

“I mean, it’s his fault anyway,” she covered up, faulting back.

“Right. What happened with that? You talk about it?”

That stirred a strange feeling. _Aww man did we “talk” about it._

“Uh, y-yeah I guess, he apologized and won’t do it again. He just thought I looked down lately and wanted to cheer me up. He forgot teenagers are stupid.”

“I told you he’s a teacher!” Alya started fuming again, as the final members of the class found their way in. Marinette’s heart fluttered as she saw Adrien’s seat.

Empty.

“What happened to Adrien?” Alya asked Nino, noticing Marinette’s dejection. She didn’t know what she was more upset about. The fact that he wasn’t there or the fact that she felt relieved he wouldn’t be there to look at her and know what sins she’d committed. How could they ever date now when she was so … so dirty?

“His dad grounded him yesterday,” Nino huffed, his friendly demeanor disappearing as his eyes narrowed. Marinette had felt uneasy in the few interactions she had with Gabriel Agreste. First, because she admired his work and wanted him to like her. Later, because for some reason Adrien always seemed so sad when he talked about him. She knew he was a business man, and an artistic genius but the guy couldn’t even remember his birthday! Nino, after his one interaction, was not a fan at all. It was pretty much the only thing he and Adrien fought about.

“Why?” Alya asked, her reporter senses probably tingling.

“Uh, because the akuma attack,” Nino answered, brows drawn, his voice inflecting upwards as if he questioned his own information. “Adrien was late to classes or something and his dad was worried about his safety. Not that it really matters, akumas just kind of happen, but he was saying his dad wants him to learn more discipline and not put himself in danger, I guess?”

“Well, maybe he should stop and think about not akumatizing his own son,” Alya replied thoughtfully. “Adrien is pretty zen but being unfairly punished might be the thing to push him.”

Marinette’s heart spasmed. Fighting Adrien?! On maybe two hours of sleep while working together with the guy she was cheating with—not that they were dating! Wait, did that count as cheating?

“Nah, he’s fine,” Nino brushed off, rubbing his neck. “He was saying he actually needed a chill day. He’s been pretty upset about something lately.”

She wanted to ask so badly, but Alya beat her to it.

“About what? He seemed fine yesterday.”

“Well, it was a bit before Marinette’s whole internet boyfriend—”

“Not my boyfriend,” she cut in.

“Right, well, your internet dude or whatever you call him. My bro can be a bit … slow on the customs of the lay people, you understand. He mentioned something about upsetting a friend of his; so I gave him some chill advice to mellow him out.”

“I swear to god, I don’t know why he trusts you with anything,” Alya teased, looking as annoyed as she was affectionate. “We need details, man!”

Nino’s eyes slid partially shut, giving Alya a dopey smile. “You should call me man more often, babe.” The two gave each other those looks, so awkward and cringy, and Marinette wanted to groan. That was the other reason she needed Adrien here. He was the buffer. They didn’t care about being all kissy-kissy around her but Adrien got special treatment because he was, as Alya explained gently, a pure sunshine child not ready for the adult world.

Marinette joked about Alya indirectly calling her a pervert and Alya had only grinned like a cat with crème. At the time, it seemed like friendly banter, but now she could help but wonder…

“He asked me how to change himself,” Nino finally described, looking somewhat thoughtfully at the desk. “Said they won’t like him the way he is and he really wants them to. I guess he was disappointed when I said he should just be himself and that people are gonna like who they like.”

Marinette frowned, wondering who could possibly dislike Adrien.

But even worse than that was the idea that Adrien felt the same self-loathing she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this was a very introspective chapter, but a very necessary one. Hopefully I captured Gabriel's intensity. 
> 
> And Nino finally got some time to shine! Got that chill bro dude vibe going with his sage advice. Really though, don't bend over backwards to make people like you. Find people who like you for yourself. 
> 
> As always, I'm glad to hear everyone's thoughts!


	9. Crisscrossed Heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Awkward fluff and real talk ahead.

Adrien sighed, spinning in his computer chair, fingers interlaced on his stomach as he stared at the multitude of tabs open on his screen. One of the greatest things about being grounded was that his father always cancelled all his outdoor plans. He couldn’t remember a day when he’d only had a couple lessons and make up homework. No photo-shoots, no driving around town, no managers, no fencing, no excited fans. Just him and the empty confines of his room.

God, he hated his room.

Okay, he supposed, as Nino pointed out, it was the coolest pad ever and he was a spoiled brat. It had a rock-climbing wall, skating hoop, veranda, large window, private bathroom, and yet it still felt sterile, like an observation room in a psychiatric research facility. He found himself yearning for a space that felt like his own. All he wanted was to go to a certain designer’s room and live on her settee. He’d seen it once, when an akuma led him in her room, and even without knowing who she was he’d thought, _“That’s_ my _spot.”_

But, as Ladybug had so sexily explained last night, he was a stray, and Marinette was supposed to mean nothing to him. He sighed again, closing out all of the windows, almost hoping an akuma would show up just so he could have the excuse to see her. The obsession with her was starting to become a problem.

Somewhere along the way he had forgotten it. From the first day he put on that Chat Noir ring he’d know this whole charade was going to be an ordeal. But he’d convinced himself it would be manageable and jumped into it without a second thought, desperate for any taste of freedom, even if it meant listening to a cheese addict and risking his life against overblown temper tantrums. The price was well-worth the reward and he sacrificed a lot of time to keep his image, his grades, his life, perfect enough for his father.

Until now.

This wasn’t a punishment for the akuma excuse, he knew that quite well. It was a punishment for getting caught in a lie, no doubt, a contest to see who would yield first. Would Adrien finally tell the truth or would his father finally sympathize? Sometimes, Adrien told “truths” and other times his father lifted the ban after a reprimand from Natalie. But with Marinette already feeling jeopardized because of her identity and their relationship doing … whatever the hell they were doing … he knew now, more than ever, yielding was not an option.

Ladybug was a noble pursuit. If exposed, Hawkmoth would do terrible things in retaliation, but Marinette would still have her honor and her pride. If the nature of their desires got out, however …

So, he stayed in his room, observing the boring white walls until Natalie knocked.

“You have a visitor,” she informed him from the other side. He turned off his screen.

“Am I allowed to have visitors?” He asked cautiously, approaching the door.

“Just keep it brief,” Natalie answered, opening the door. He barely heard her heels clopping away because his heartbeat became that excruciatingly loud.

Standing outside his door, with a folder between her pretty hands, was Marinette. In all her stammering, I-can-barely-tolerate-you glory.

“Hi,” he said breathlessly, wondering how crazy she’d think he was if he just went ahead and said he loved her and wanted to do naughty things with her for the rest of their lives. He could imagine her flustered expression as he took her to his computer, showing her the results of his research, pointing like an excited kid at a theme park, saying  _"Mari, let's try that one!"_

“Hi,” she squeaked, nervously flickering, eyes shifting. “Can I come in? AHAHAHA, you know, the hall, it’s—you’re awkward! I mean, I’m…”

“Come in,” he cut in softly, putting her out of her own misery. She tip-toed in, looking around his room with the general awe of a first-time guest. Not that she was since she had been here a few times as Ladybug. He supposed it was pretty smart of her to pretend to be impressed again.

“So,” he started, drawing out the sound. “Why are you here?”

“Right, my homework!” She thrust the folder toward him. “Well, _your_ homework, I’m just here delivering, but you already know that … So, yeah?”

“Oh, thank you,” he answered with a smile, taking the folder.

“Ahahahaha, your problem,” she answered with a grin and … finger guns?

Fuck, it was so hard to not grin at her like a love-sick idiot. He could feel his facade cracking.

Her eyes widened. “I mean, my problem, I mean NO! Problem. None. I’m not inconvenienced by this at all, in fact I just _love_ you—H-HELPING you!” She stuttered out erratically, getting more agitated by the second. He flinched, taking in the sarcasm dripping in her words. For all he knew, the teacher forced her to come all the way over here. Marinette never struck him as mean, but the passive-aggressive approach she took with him was unsettling. At least Chloe was obvious when she disliked someone and didn’t even pretend to cater to their feelings. If he ever called Marinette out on whatever this was, she’d probably just feel guilty and apologize and bottle her feelings. He never wanted her to feel like that.

So, instead, he did what he did best.

Smiled.

“Yes, well that’s expected from the class president and all,” he answered neutrally. “But still, you didn’t have to come out here and I really appreciate that you did, Marinette.”

Her face turned tomato red and he inwardly winced. Did it sound like he was entitled? Or that he was mocking her? What was he doing wrong?! His hand was itching to touch her, settle on her shoulder as he tried to steady her. Then he remembered yesterday and his face grew flushed. Would she notice? Was there anything left to notice? Had he been quiet for way too long?

Which is how he somehow ending up blurting through the silence, “You wanna watch a movie?”

Somehow, that actually got her to stop jittering. “What?”

Oh fuck, now it was awkward. Was it normal for guys to invite their girlfriend—friend that happened to be a girl—to watch movies or was this one of those flirtations he didn’t know he was doing?

_Make it seem natural Agreste!_

“Yeah, it’s kind of boring being stuck here all day,” he continued, trying to desperately shut himself up. “I’m glad you came by. I have tons of cool movies. You can pick one.”

Now she was grinning at him, her eyes almost manic as they filled with panic. “Me? Pick? Ahahahaha, with ME? Ah! I mean, I don’t know! I’m not good at this? Natalie!”

His eyebrows shot up. _Is she  actually going to ask for permission?_

"Sh-she said I had to be quick! Didn’t even want me to get in, like I’m some sort of stalker or something right? Which, hello, I’m NOT obviously. I don’t do that, why am I even talking about that? You’re going to get in trouble. You should go!”

He tried not to let the disappointment show too much on his face. “Right, well, thanks again for coming by Marinette. You take care of yourself, okay?”

“MHM!” She muffled out, face stiff as cardboard. “Bye!”

It wasn’t until she slammed the door that he realized she accidentally said she loved him. How sad was it that just that made him giddy? Maybe he really was a masochist …

 

\---

 

Marinette slumped onto her bed, groaning in her pillow.

“I’m such an idiot Alya!” She cried into the receiver. “I totally had a chance and I blew it!”

“Like how bad are we talking?” Alya probed, tone laced with amusement.

“Like, “hey you wanna watch a movie with me Marinette?” and “No, because I’m your stalker!” god, he probably thinks I’m so fucking crazy.”

“Girl, you did steal his phone.” Alya would never let her live that down.

Another cry into the pillow. “He doesn’t know that! You didn’t tell him, right?”

“I barely talk to the guy,” Alya drawled, probably twining her hair in her fingers like she usually did when they started talking about Adrien nonsense. “You’re not the only one whose shy, you know. He probably talks more to you than he does to me and that’s really saying something.”

“It’s probably because I put my face in his business all the time,” she whined, sitting up and hugging her pillow. Adrien was extremely introverted and usually kept to himself. He probably hated every time she intruded on his silence. “He’s probably afraid of me and keeping me at bay the same way he does with Chloe! Oh god, I’m Chloe, Alya!”

“Sweetie, you’re not rich enough to be Chloe. That’s like a third of her personality. The rest is filled with narcissism and general bitchery and unless you’re playing me, you really don’t have those either,” Alya soothed in that no-nonsense way of hers. Ah, Alya, Marinette was so lucky she moved to Paris. Who else could tolerate her brand of crazy?

“You know, we were getting better. Just last week we talked about the homework and I didn’t stutter or anything. I don’t know why I blew it today. It was as bad as the beginning.”

Alya winced. Actually winced. “That bad?”

All she could do was whimper. Alya comforted her with soothing nothings, reminding her that Adrien was probably the least judgmental person in the world.

“Hold on though,” Alya said slowly, the way she did right before regurgitating a new Ladybug theory. “He _asked_ you to watch a movie with him. Alone. In his room?”

“Okay, it sounds bad, but it’s Adrien,” Marinette defended, disliking the implication in her tone. “He was just lonely and wanted to hang out with someone.”

“Still girl, I can’t believe you turned down a date. Hey, you know what, you could ask him about it when he comes back to school. Just say you were busy today and you want to reschedule.”

“Oh, great idea, Alya, that will go about as well as the other times I’ve tried to ask him out,” Marinette groaned. Why was it the one guy that she was totally into made her a fucking spaz? She was an okay public speaker, usually comfortable hanging out with boys, even if she was quieter. Meanwhile when she was with Chat Noir …

_Holy shit._ She didn’t like that comparison at all. Just imagining herself talking down to Adrien like that was terrifying. She'd make him cry! And not even shameful, "this hurts but tell me more" tears like Chat's, but real heartbroken "I'll never forgive you" tears. Her mind clung to that image, even as Alya and her stayed on the phone like they normally did while doing homework. How would it be like if Adrien was more like Chat? Why were both of them so different from other boys?

_Am I always going to be comparing the two? Is it wrong?_ After, lingering on the idea she finally decided to ask Tikki,

“Hey, why do you think I get spaz-tastic with Adrien?”

Tikki looked up from the spools of thread she was color coding. “Um, nerves, I guess. You like him a lot and you don’t want to seem silly and then you overthink and try too much at once.”

“But, here’s the thing, Tikki: I was so, so nervous with Chat the other day but I was so calm on the outside,” she rushed out, breaking through her humiliation. Because it wasn't like she could talk to Alya about this. “How come I can’t just channel that confidence when talking to Adrien? It doesn’t make any sense.”

Tikki plopped down on the desk, her little paw tapping her chin. “I don’t know. There's something different happening there. One of my Ladybug’s once talked to me about subspace. She said it was almost like her mind became fine-tuned, more instinctual. But that’s part of being in the scene, I suppose.”

The fact that he kwami of luck and all that was good and pure in this world just spouted that out of her cute little mouth sent Marinette reeling. Tikki mistook her shock for confusion and went on.

“I guess you’re pretending to be another part of yourself. Like when you’re being Ladybug. I have a feeling you’d be able to talk to Adrien just fine if he was in danger and you were doing your job. Ladybug gives you confidence and Chat’s someone you can trust. Between those two things, it’s no wonder that you can be comfortable with him.”

Something about that struck her. “So, what, I don’t trust Adrien?”

“If you think something you will say will make him hate you, I suppose,” Tikki answered thoughtfully. “Humans are a bit confusing for me. It’s more like you trust that Chat won’t hate you.”

She was quiet for a while, sketching an outfit full of curves and confusion. “Do you think it’s awful of me to be this way?”

Tikki blinked. “Why?”

“Well, I like Adrien, I really do, and I want to be with him. And I like Chat—as a friend of course—but he expects me to continue our … thing. After how it went I think I want to. Is that bad?”’

“I’ve already told you Marinette, you can like two people at once,” Tikki scolded, rolling her eyes. They'd had conversations before the whole reveal debacle about her possibly having a crush on Chat Noir and although Marinette was adamant this was not the case, Tikki had yet to let it go. She'd learned to just drop it at this point.

Tikki finally finished her sorting, floating up to admire the gradient. Then she turned to Marinette. “You should think about what things you like about each one and come to a fair decision.”

Yet her mind still wavered, unable to sort through the murk in her heart. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest, this is one of my favorite chapters so far, and I hope you guys enjoy it too. Awkward Marinette is hilarious.
> 
> As always, let me know what you think in the comments.


	10. Previous Engagement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about posting late everyone! My relative came from out of town without telling me and I was pretty much off the grid for four days. 
> 
> Hope the wait was worth it!

Adrien was able to return to school after three days feeling refreshed and ready. He’d spent the time contemplating his awkward situation with Marinette, as well as his father, and thought he’d possibly come to a solution for both. His father had let up the grounding once Adrien was able to show him his finished reports and apologize for being careless. Adrien had thought of a few loopholes for some of his lessons—mostly in case of sudden akuma attacks—and even went as far as to schedule into his night time to make more space for homework. Once he showed better results, his father would surely back off. 

Marinette was another issue entirely. He couldn’t figure out a decent way to tell her about his identity and he wasn’t sure he felt honest continuing to “play” with her. First, he felt she’d be insulted that he tricked her once she knew his real identity. Second, she’d expressed there was another boy she liked and it was unfair to manipulate her away from him if that was what she really wanted. Third, their lives were already hectic enough without covert meetings. Every aspect had solutions, but he wasn’t sure how to implement them. Obviously, he needed to get her like Adrien. Whatever happened between them, they still were partners, and she needed to be comfortable enough with him so he could reveal the truth. Before that, he needed to sit her down and more directly approach what she expected from Chat Noir. Then, follow her expectations.

Naturally, Marinette liked to keep things unpredictable.

“Hello, thanks again for bringing the classwork,” he greeted, approaching her desk as direct as possible. Even Chloe raised a brow at him as he stood there waiting for a response.

Marinette looked up at him, her expression stiff as she swallowed sharply.

“You really helped me.” He patted her shoulder, hoping his warm grip conveyed his sincerity.

“No problem,” she said steadily, actually meeting his eyes. “Glad to see you’re back.”

_Am I dreaming?_ She was talking to him! Like she didn’t hate him. He smiled, giving her a gentle squeeze. “Yeah, I’m glad to be back.”

Marinette breathed in, her lips soft and pink as she slowly smiled back. He removed his hand, realizing he’d lingered too long. For him, he was looking down at the girl he loved, the girl who had just a few days ago had dominated him with just a ruler and her sexy voice.  _Stop thinking about that, she doesn't even know who you are anyway!_  Sometimes, it got difficult to remember that he was nothing to her. Just because she talked to him didn't mean he could push his luck. Growing uneasy from her unyielding stare, his inched towards his seat, feeling his shoulders hunch as he dug through his bag.

“What was that dude?” Nino whispered, eyes wide with shock.

“I don’t know, but it worked,” he whispered back excitedly. The sat through class filled with a strange exhilaration.  _Does this mean she doesn't hate me anymore?_ For the life of him he couldn't figure out what had changed. Their last encounter had been just as awkward and tense as all the rest. It made him wish they were close enough to share their feelings; try as he might, there were just some things about her he didn't understand. He didn’t have another chance to talk to her until lunch. Usually, he liked to retreat to do his own thing since it was one of the only times in the day he could just sit down and take a breath, but he asked Nino to invite him along and he bravely continued with the conversation starter he’d focused on all morning.

“Some weather, huh?” he asked Marinette, who nodded at him, then went back to talking to Alya about the pastries she’d brought. He tried to keep going anyway. “It looks like it’s going to rain later.”

“Yeah, dude; if they cancel your photoshoot, you should totally come to my place and play mecha strike,” Nino cut in enthusiastically. “We gotta hang more.”

Adrien felt a twinge of guilt that his first thought after hearing the weather report had been about what a great opportunity that would be to find Ladybug. They could snuggle up somewhere and watch the rain patter on the window, light some candles, and when dusk settled in—

“Are you still grounded?” Nino asked sadly, noticing Adrien’s extreme concentration.

“Well, you know father he’s never…” he trailed off, realizing he was saying more than he needed to. Nino was already getting that familiar look of consternation, another uncomfortable rant waiting underneath it. He'd already been livid when Adrien called to let him know he was pulled out of school again. “But yeah, I’ll try to see if we can set something up Nino.”

“You know, Marinette was saying she needed to get more practice in for Mecha Strike’s next tournament. Maybe we can join you,” Alya interjected, some strange light in her eye. For whatever reason, maybe it was because Nino was now her boyfriend, Alya had been doing her best to try to improve Adrien’s friendship with Marinette. It seemed like every other day she threw Marinette in his direction, only for him to accidentally mess it up. _If only I had more time to prepare…_

“Today?!” Marinette squeaked, her face pinkening. “Oh, I can’t! I’ve got important things to do—not that being with you isn’t important—just … maybe another time?”

Just like that, they were back to ground zero.

 

\---

 

Marinette was 110% sure if that if she confessed to her friends that she wanted to spend the afternoon planning on preparing for her next kink meeting with her leather catsuit wearing partner, they  would forever shun her. Tikki had mentioned it would rain in the afternoon, and she was more accurate than TV, and sudden rain usually meant sudden akumas which meant she might run into Chat Noir and then they’d—

“What’s so important?” Alya prodded, frowning. “You’ve been working way too hard lately, girl, you need a break. You hardly ever relax anymore! It’ll be a lot of fun.”

Alya had that mad dog look in her eyes which meant she wasn’t going to let go. Marinette knew she was just trying to be helpful—it was her own damn fault for worshiping Adrien so much in front of her—but how did she explain that she needed more time to decide how to feel about Adrien? Tikki’s advice about playing a role  and trying to trust him had actually been pretty sound. But the more she thought about finally getting the courage to ask him out, the more she thought about a certain black cat, staring up at her with those emerald eyes.

“It would be fun,” Marinette hedged, realizing all three of them were staring at her. “But I have a, uh, previous engagement and—”

“Oh my god, is it your internet boyfriend?” Alya demanded. Marinette flinched. She’d jokingly said over the phone it would be funny to see Adrien get jealous over the new attention she was getting but Marinette didn’t think she’d actually try anything this obvious. Plus, a guy had to care about you first to get jealous. Just ask freakin’ Chat. He turned into a silly braggard every time Ladybug even complimented a guy. And even if he  _seemed_ okay with her crush on Adrien, she could tell it bothered him.Not that she wanted to talk about it, but she did think it was weird that he wouldn't even say his name in front of her. Instead, he got abnormally quiet, his face taking on an almost porcelain quality, void of the warmth he normally exuded.

She happened to glance at Adrien who, for some odd reason, was staring back at her very intensely. There was something about his eyes, the same ones once spattered all across her bedroom wall, that seemed to speak directly to her, holding some secret only they could share. All she could do was drop her gaze, feeling her throat start to tighten in panic. It was impossible, she knew that, but she felt like could just look at her and know and she’d be exposed and then no one would ever want her to be Ladybug ever again.

“I-i-if he’s online, we might talk,” she stuttered out, her face almost in pain from the blush. “He’s really busy too, you know. It’s not like I was planning on anything!”

“Maybe you should invite him over!” Alya beamed, probably admiring her own genius. “It’s about time you meet him anyway and if he’s really busy maybe he needs a break too!”

_A break from life in a dark room, his hands shaking from her touch as she slid her fingers over his…_

“NO!” She almost shouted, her eyes shifting between them as they all looked more concerned. “It would be weird, not that you guys are weird, I’m weird. I mean, he’s weird, shit! What I meant was we haven’t met yet and it would be really weird.”

Her legs were curling up in front of her and she wanted to die. Once again, her heart was hammering so loudly that it pounded in her skull. Normally when it got this bad, she’d just run to the bathroom and take a breather but Adrien was there and she was trying so, so hard to seem normal.

“I doubt my father will let me anyway after what happened the other day,” Adrien said softly, some emotion she couldn’t decipher in his eyes. “I’ll try to set aside a day on my schedule and let you guys know as soon as possible. Maybe I could convince him to let you guys come to my house.”

“That’d be cool,” Alya answered, eyes shining. “Just think, an inside scoop on the manor of reclusive fashionista genius Gabriel Agreste.” Everyone gave her a tired look and she laughed. “I’m kidding! For real though, how come you haven’t invited us over already?”

“I’ve been over,” Nino answered between bites of his sandwich. “It’s pretty cool, I guess.”

“Really?”

“Babe, I don’t gotta tell you everywhere I go,” he teased, a gleam in his eye. “Besides, it was just for a class project, no need to get jealous. Adrien’s pretty, but you know you’re the only one for me.”

Alya huffed, rolled her eyes and checked her phone while Adrien and Nino busted out laughing. It was nice to see them relaxed and getting along; Adrien rarely laughed, despite his positive attitude about everything. When he laughed the sound seemed to move his whole body, his face lighting with a vitality so different from the relaxed poise in his pictures. Marinette hoped that one day she could make him laugh so happily.

She bet Chat could do it. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know. I'm sorry. You guys had to wait and this chapter is also incredibly slow. I swear once things get rolling we'll all look back on these simpler times and miss them. 
> 
> Next update should be a bit angsty. 
> 
> Thank you all for waiting!


	11. Rain Check

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright guys, akumas and angst ahead!

By the time Adrien got out of school he was jumpy with anticipation. Predictably it had started to rain during fencing practice, and that made him think about Marinette and that look on her face when he handed her that umbrella the first day they met and for a moment thought that they were destined for … something. That was before he met her at school again and she started stuttering and squawking out a storm while everyone just held in their laughs because they knew whatever stupid thing he’d done to eternalize her intense need to be as far away from him as possible.

Now, as he stood on the steps, waiting for his bodyguard, staring at his phone, he couldn’t help but feel like rain was going to start meaning something else for him. He hadn’t missed the way those big cerulean eyes of hers wavered at the way she said _previous engagement_. It felt sneaky of him somehow.  Almost thrilling. Because he knew, without a doubt, that she was talking about Chat Noir. He had no idea how they’d contact each other, but he was sure she had something up her sleeve.

Though he supposed he could always just get brave enough to knock on her roof.

He was interrupted from this train of thought when a giant black mass shot through the street, snapping around all the cars to pull them back. In a flash, he jumped up the steps, looking in horror as he realized they were being tangled in hair. Miles and miles of inky black hair overtaking the city.

“Aw, man it’s raining, I hate working when it rains!” Plagg groaned from in his bag. “Can’t Ladybug just take of this one by herself! It’s so gross.”

But Adrien had been running, two steps at a time to the abandoned classroom. “Claws out!”

The akuma was easy to trace. All he had to do was follow the hair to the center of what looked to be the location of his professional photography studio. He’d bet all of Plagg’s cheese that the akuma was some model unhappy with the sudden change in weather. He'd guess the humidity frizzed up her hair. 

Ladybug jumped on the roof beside him.

“Hello, my lady,” he cheerfully greeted. “We’re about to get in a _hairy_ situation.”

“You know, if puns are going to be your thing you might want to set the standard instead of going for the lowest hanging branch,” she snarked, pushing her wet hair out of her face. It proceeded to whip back into place from the encroaching winds of the storm. He was surprised to see the slight curl it had.

“Ugh!” She ground out, trying to press it behind her ears. He wondered if she’d let him braid it if he asked.

“Rest _asheared_ , my lady,” he started instead, standing up straight. “I’ll _cut_ this _short_.”

She let out another exclamation, but this one was more of a soft whimper, and he realized she was shivering from the cold.

“Bugaboo, are you okay?”

“Fine, just fell in a puddle before I transformed. Forgot my umbrella yet again. I really wasn’t in the mood for an akuma today,” she pouted, crossing her arms.

“That’s _tear_ able,” he sympathized, proud that she'd come anyway. “If it makes you feel any better, you’ve made _my_ day.”

Some hair from the streets whipped up at them and they jumped out of the way. Then he slipped on the shingles, sliding to the edge of the roof, his claws barely holding on. He felt something compress around his body and then he was dragged away.

“Chat!” She shouted, zipping after him, running along giant ridges of hair. Then his vision was completely obscured by the inky strands, hair tendrils wrapped around him tight as piano strings. He thought about using cataclysm but he was too afraid the hair was attached to the akuma and he had no idea what cataclysm could do to a person.

After being bumped and shingled around, he was suspended from the top of a stage in the studio, colored lights flashing on the woman below.

“Look what cat I dragged in,” the akuma simpered, covered in a strange assortment of bedazzled gems and jewels. Her skin was eggshell white, and he recognized the sharp planes of her face. Jeanne, a fellow model for the Agreste line. _Aw man,_ he inwardly sighed. She was worse than Chloe so he supposed it was nice that she had just barely been akumatized but still. Dealing with people he knew and worked with was so much harder than strangers.

Her face lit up with butterfly neon. “Oh yes, I’d love a new accessory.”

This, naturally, prompted him to struggle in the bonds. The realization that he couldn’t escape settled in and a strange feeling of resentment settled in his chest. Ladybug was supposed to tie him up, not some stranger. Plus, the hair was wet and slimy and his position was awkward and holy shit this was not the time to be thinking about that. The hair tightened and his fear only escalated. He felt his arm being forcibly moved down and he tried to resist while gritting his teeth. He watched as the hair slid off his hand, and the akuma rode up on her own strands to admire Plagg's ring.

“How gauche,” she pouted, slapping his hand away. “It doesn’t suit moi!”

Her face lit up again and he was sure Hawkmoth was lecturing the akuma or something. Unfortunately, her distraction did nothing to unbind him. “You know what would really suit you?”

“Hm?” She turned to stare at him eyes like diamonds. “You look familiar.”

 “A butterfly!” He interrupted, ignoring her. “Cats are so last season, my miraculous is pawsitively bo _ring_. But a butterfly would look stunning with your complexion!”

“Really?” She gushed, her hair loosening. “I was so worried about my hair frizzing in the rain. Utter disaster! But now I’m absolutely perfect, don’t you think?”

“I’m flattered just being near you,” he emphasized, knowing how much she liked it when fans said that. The model had terrible mood swings, going from the runway diva to unconfident compliment fisher with minutes. He’d once asked his father if maybe they should have required mental health services for their employees to help with the stress of the fashion world. Predictably, his father called it a waste of time. He said mental illness could be better translated to mental weakness and anyone who couldn’t handle the heat didn’t need to stay in the industry. That was probably around the time Adrien had stopped actively trying to engage him.

_Bigger fish to fry Chat,_ he chided himself, “Surely, something more suited to a girl as pretty as you. Hawkmoth has the perfect miraculous. Why, you could turn yourself into this form whenever you want!”

Jeanne’s hair loosened, enough for his other hand to reach for his baton. “Oh, you’re just trying to trick me! You think I’m disgusting, tell me the truth!”

His binding tightened again and he choked. “No, really. You’re stunning!”

The akuma looked dubious. Chat supposed being kept around for constant compliments was better than losing his miraculous. “The most beautiful girl in all of Paris!”

It was just his luck that Ladybug chose that moment to come crashing through the room with a giant pair of  polka dot scissors. A few snips later, a screaming model, and a broken mirror and the akuma was defeated. She de-transformed, her hair floating around her head in a frizzy bird nest.

He helped her up, noticing that she was still crying. “It's fine. You aren’t even a little disgusting. There’s nothing wrong with having a bad day, you know. You’re probably the prettiest model in the industry, you know that?”

Jeanne sucked up her tears, trying to look proud, accentuating the perfect angles of her face. “I never have bad days but thanks for the compliment, cat boy.”

 

\---

              

_I’m so stupid,_ Ladybug told herself, flinching as the wind outside caught her. Why she thought Chat would possibly be interested in a bitchy girl like her when he apparently could sweep models of their feet was beyond her! _God, he really does flirt with all the girls,_ she thought grumpily, wondering why that bothered her so much. It’s not like she cared anyway. If he wanted to hang out with Jeanne D’Arc, one of the top contracts for the Agreste fashion line, then by all means! It wasn't like they were dating anyway. The things they had done probably meant nothing to him anyway.

“Ladybug, wait!” Chat called, running after her. Naturally, this drew all the attention of the citizens waiting outside the agency. Ladybug rolled her eyes, throwing her yo-yo, too fed up to deal with anyone and their questions. Her life sucked right now. She didn’t want to pretend to be friendly and encouraging and happy. Her miraculous beeped out a warning as she landed on a building.

“Hold on!” Chat called, vaulting after her. _I really should just leave,_ she thought, knowing he didn’t deserve her going on him. It’s not like they were an item or anything. She already had a boy she liked anyway, so why even bother—

_Screw that,_ she internally shouted, turning on a heel. Chat skirted on the flat roof, almost crashing into her. She raised a brow as he caught himself.

“Why’d you leave so fast?” He asked, catching his breath. “I just wanted to talk!”

“I’m about to de-transform,” she uttered, flashing her earring at him. The excuse had served well in the past.

Chat frowned, his tail curling around his leg, his ears drooping. He looked almost as miserable as she felt. “I’m sorry I wasn’t much help this time. She had me in a _close shave_.”

Ladybug barked out a laugh before she could stop herself.

He grinned in response. “That’s the pun that makes you laugh? Really?”

“Of course not,” she snapped, her earrings beeping urgently. “It’s because you’re so unbelievable! You even have the gall to joke about it!”

“Why are you upset? Did something happen?” He asked, holding on to her arm. Could he really be asking that after he almost lost his miraculous? Did he feel no fear whatsoever when akuma’s thrashed him around? God, maybe he actually liked it. His fingers barely touched her, the claws making a neat circle. She jerked her arm back.

“Leave me alone! I can’t believe I was actually worried about you while you were just hanging around and flirting with that model! Seemed pretty cozy, Chat, why don’t you just ask her to suspend you next time? I’m sorry she was covering all of Paris; next time I won’t intrude! Let me know how it goes being with the jewel of Paris, you alley cat!”

“Are you serious right now?” He demanded, voice lowering with anger.

Ladybug’s heart fluttered. He didn’t normally get mad at her and when he did, he never looked like that… She expected him to just leave, follow up on her suggestion with the model, explain he didn’t actually care about her. After all, she was convenient and willing to do what he wanted but that didn’t mean she was his first choice. Why did that piss him off anyway? Not that she had time to figure out what got his tail in a twist. Her day already sucked; she really didn’t need to transform back into Marinette drooping with mud while he yelled at her for trying to save his life again.

“Whatever,” she muttered, getting ready to swing her yo-yo.

“The classroom!” He shouted, stopping her yet again. “We’re not done, okay?”

She gave him a curt nod before retreating.

 

\---

 

Chat picked open the window lock with his nail, lifted up the glass, and slid through the opening. The classroom was dark and empty. _Maybe she won’t show,_ he thought morosely, walking over to the door to make sure it was locked. He’d immediately ran over here, barely having enough time to get his thoughts together, trying to figure out what bothered him the most. Was it her lack of faith in him? It kind of stung that she was so ready to hand him away to another girl. He knew he wasn’t her crush, but damn, he thought she cared a little bit. Also, ironic that she’d get mad about it considering she was the one who didn’t want any labels on their relationship. _Plus, she’s the one who loves someone else! What even am I to her?_ Because, like it or not, they had _something_ and he’d been stupid enough to think that meant more.

Ladybug was an enigma. She pulled him in. She pushed him away. He supposed it should be flattering that she was jealous but he found himself being disappointed instead. All he did was try to help an akuma victim, that’s what they always did. Jeanne had been so fragile and lost, totally different from the normal exuberant confidence she held but instead of giving her a kind word Ladybug had just walked off in a huff. Ladybug always checked up on victims, even if it was someone like Chloe. Did she just really hate models or something? If he told her how much he related to Jeanne, how he was worried she had an eating disorder, how he also felt like he’d never be good enough … would she just laugh at him? Or would she think him a wimp and tell him to get over himself because he was lucky to have everything he did? Maybe her response to Jeanne bothered him because he imagined her scorning him.

His pacing was interrupted when Ladybug slid through the window, shaking the water off herself. The clock overhead told him that he’d been waiting for almost an hour, stewing in his thoughts.

“Sorry, Chat, I got home and my parents were behind on a delivery and I had to wash off the mud but I got here as fast as I could,” she got out, catching her breath. Seeing her bent over, hand on her chest, almost mollified him. She looked almost … apologetic. “Have you been waiting a long time?”

“Not that long,” he uttered, not wanting to embarrass himself further. Apparently, his embarrassment was contagious because now she was awkwardly fidgeting.

“Are you sure you want to?” She began, gesturing the room. “While we’re…”

Her hands gestured between them and he raised his brow, realizing the source of her confusion. Did she really think he invited her to play BDSM partners right now? Well, he _wanted_ to ever since she mumbled about previous engagements at lunch but he was supposed to be mad at her, right? Had he just made a big deal out of something inconsequential again?

“I guess?” He replied, voice rising in pitch. Even then, it felt wrong. They still hadn’t really talked about rules or anything. All she said was that she might punish him sometimes, but he didn’t do anything wrong!

“Chat, I … “ She wavered, looking a little lost. “I don’t know if we should keep doing this.”

Well, it wasn’t like he didn’t expect it end eventually. “Okay.”

“Because, I … okay?” She repeated, her brow drawing. “That’s it? Okay?”

“Well, it’s not like I can make you,” he snorted, hand on his hip. “You’ve been on the fence from the beginning and now you've stooped to mocking me for it. Hell, you told me to go ask that girl to partner with me which, by the way, not cool LB. Just because I got tied up didn’t mean I suddenly enjoyed it! You really think I get aroused by every single akuma we fight? Even though I like what we’re doing doesn’t mean I automatically like any situation where I’m in danger. It was really rude of you to suggest it, especially since you didn’t want _me_ putting _you_ down for your kinks. You were the one who started all of this anyway and not once have I ever tried to shame you for it. It wasn’t my fault I got snatched up by an akuma, okay? That’s part of the job requirement, LB. You didn't have to be so awful about it. I just wish you’d think about things before you yelled them at me.”

_Fuck,_ he winced, staring at the disbelief on her face. _I can’t believe I said all that._ But he had and there wasn’t any going back now. He stood his ground, fully steeling himself to defend his position.

Ladybug walked over to him, her face downcast and soft. “You’re right.”

“I am?” He asked, confused as she took his hands in hers.

“Chat, I’m not very good at being angry,” she admitted softly, her thumbs stroking the outside of his hands. His stomach flipped, enjoying the low profile of her face as she focused on the ground. “Sometimes I have a bit of a temper and it kind of clouds my head and I say things that I don’t really mean. Most of the time I just put up with shit so when I finally get pissed, I guess I explode. I should have just left instead of yelling at you. I wasn't being fair to you at all.”

_Wow,_ he inwardly gushed, _she’s so cute when she’s apologizing._  It was flattering that she felt comfortable enough exposing her flaws to him. That she had thought about him at all.

“Well, you did try to leave,” he answered steadily, gripping her hands back, feeling solid again. “I appreciate that you were trying to be considerate, even if you well … I guess it was my bad for not letting you go. Do you want me to give you space next time?”

She considered this, biting her lip, staring upward. “I’m really sorry Chat. I don’t like upsetting you. But if I hadn’t said anything you wouldn’t have said anything and I would be at home being unreasonable. I’m glad you let me know I was wrong.”

“Well, I didn’t say that,” he backpedaled, growing nervous. He’d kind of run off at the mouth a bit, which was something he _never_ did, and maybe she’d grow more upset after taking time to think about it. He didn’t want more fighting. Neither did she. It would have been easier if  _had_ just let her go. Let her decide when to recover.  _Why couldn’t I just brush it off?_

“Chat,” she interjected flatly, letting go of his hands. “Sometimes, I can be reckless and even though it works, most of the time I’m just pulling out solutions from thin air. Half of the time, I have no idea what the hell I'm doing. There’s no way I’m always going to be right. You’re allowed to criticize me. Anytime. You know that, right?"

With reluctance, he nodded, knowing what she said was sound.

She put her hands on her hips, confidence mixed with uncertainty. “I’m not mad at you, okay? I was actually mad at myself.”

It made him smile, that snappy reassurance. “Can I do anything to help _mew_?”

A dry huff was her reply. “I feel so dumb. I spent all day thinking about fun stuff to do with you and instead the first chance I get I go off on you like a crazy bitch.”

“Don’t call yourself that,” he replied, brow furrowed. Then her words hit him. Yeah, he suspected, but to actually hear she spent her day thinking about him. Designing something for him. Oh, he knew how she got when she had an outfit on her mind. She’d focus on her notebook, drowning out everyone and everything, her focus hyper centered on one objective. To think that _he_ could be the subject of that sexy focus of hers?

Ladybug didn’t notice the myriad of emotions on his face. “That’s part of why I was late too. I had to sneak out and bring this stuff for you. But I guess we aren’t doing that anymore, right?”

He swallowed as she pulled a cute bag from the back of her yo-yo belt, It was bulky, obviously one of her designs, and damn he _really_ wanted to know what was inside.

“I never said that, my lady.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, our protagonists turn to BDSM to solve their problems. Let's see how that plays out for them. 
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter was a lot to unpack and I can't wait to read your interesting thoughts~


	12. Full Exposure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!

Marinette felt so dumb, hefting the bad in her hands. Somehow there was a different between just stumbling around and finding things as opposed to carefully setting up and planning to … Chat looked at the bag with curious anticipation, his mouth quirking up in a nervous but calm smile. She herself felt unsteady. The entire dynamic had been ruined. She treated him terribly, told him off, confessed what a wreck she was. How could he ever trust her with his safety?

How could she even trust herself?

“This might be a bit more intense than last time,” she warned, maybe slightly teasing him with her voice. He swallowed, absentmindedly stroking his hand. 

“Like more painful?”

“Not today. I want to try something else,” she breathed nervously. There was no excuse for what she was asking for. Doubtless it barely strode the lines of BDSM anyway. But no matter how many scenes she read about torture and whips and ropes, her mind couldn’t help but go back to the basic lines of his body. She was curious, so, so curious about him.

But Chat wasn’t shy at all. If she just came out with it, he’d go along. Those moments slight discomfort would be what enticed him.

And there was only one way to accomplish that.

“I’m going to need you to detransform,” she requested, opening the drawstrings of the bag.

“Now?” He balked. “You might not like knowing—”

She pressed a finger on his mouth, quieting him before he revealed anything further. It was a curious how anxious the reveal made him, especially since he had been pushing it for so long. At this point she felt she knew almost everything about him. What additional information could possibly change anything?

“Put this on,” she ordered, pulling out a mask. She’d sewn it herself, soft and silky, the fabric too expensive for such a small swatch. She’d thought of his mask when making it, added her own features, soft embroidered edges, a sharp edge for his nose. “After you do it.”

He took the soft mask in his claws, his eyes heavy with some emotion she couldn’t place. His fingers traced the black threads where her name was hidden. “You made this for me?”

Marinette nodded, biting her lip. “It’s difficult with your costume to … to do things.”

He rubbed the fabric on his cheek. “It’s so soft.”

Why did the room feel so hot? “Y-yeah, I also made you these.”

God, he was going to laugh. _Better get it over with._ She thrust the pair of cat ears at him.

He grinned widely. “Meow~. I didn’t realize you liked cats so much.”

“Oh my god!” She _knew_ he’d take it wrong! “It’s just weird without them okay?”

“Suuuure,” he teased, moving the ears up so they were in front of his normal Chat Noir ones. Hers were smaller, connected to a band, matching the lace, and looking frankly girlish in comparison. “What do you think, bugaboo? Am I a cutie? Meow~”

It was weird how photogenic his face was. How easily he could catch childlike excitement with just a single alteration. She thought it was shame she hadn’t brought a camera.

_Something for the future, I suppose._

“Are you going to do it or not?” She demanded, trying to reassert herself.

 “Are you going to show me what else is in the bag?” He quipped, gaining a surprising amount of confidence. Well, maybe not surprising for him, but she’d be super uncomfortable in his position. He was acting like it was nothing! _God, I’m like the worst dom ever._

“You’ll find out later,” she said brusquely, turning on her heel. “Get started.”

Chat Noir was quiet for too long. It made her wonder what he thought about all this. They'd never really sat down and talked about it. Maybe he also realized this was reckless. 

Almost reticent, he said, “Claws off.”

Green light flashed in front of her face and the realization of it sunk in. _If I turn around, he’ll be right there. Will I know who he is?_

Her heart thumped rapidly at the thought, her feet almost seeming to work against her. She wondered if she might actually recognize him. Would he be upset? 

“Ugh, I hate rain, I’m so hungry!” A small voice whined, causing her to jump. “I’m going to the cafeteria! Catch up with you guys later, okay?”

“Don’t cause any trouble Plagg!” Chat snapped, exasperated. “Sorry, LB. He means well.”

Marinette wanted to ask what his kwami thought about all this. If was as involved as Tikki, offering endless advice and what not, but she didn’t to break the mood.

Her ears were hypersensitive as he ruffled through his hair, donning the mask and ears. She itched to know what it looked like.  Tikki had mentioned that kwami magic made it harder for people to identify her. What if she saw the mask and it just became too obvious? Something whispered at the back of her mind, an inkling of an idea, that maybe she had met his other identity already.

“Should I take off my clothes?” He asked carefully, making her heart skid.

“Wh-wh-what?”

“You might,” he hesitated, voice so quiet, so unlike him, “recognize them.”

“You think so?” She asked breathily. Was he really offering to strip? That easily?

“Well, you are a fashion designer,” he hedged, sounding more and more uneasy. “I’m sure you just notice these sorts of things all the time.”

“That makes sense,” she answered nervously, not sure what to do with the prospect of a suddenly naked boy. “Just removing your shirt should be fine. Oh, maybe your shoes too. They're probably the thing I'm worst at designing so I really pay attention to them.”

“So, keep my pants on?” he teased, his voice close to her shoulder. She shook.

But damn she wasn’t going to let him get the upper hand. “For now, chaton.”

The way he inhaled, the way her voice sultrily suggested … hell yeah, she had this in the bag. Even as she could hear him removing articles of clothing, she could read his nerves. Hesitation with each step, slow rustling tantalizing her brain. Already she was feeling warmth pooling between her thighs. It was probably for the best he didn’t know what kind of effect he had on her.

“Alright, I think I’m good,” he finally uttered, taking far longer than she’d thought.

“You put the mask on?” She demanded stiffly.

“Yeah, and my kitty ears, mistress,” he drawled, playfully. Ladybug turned on a heel, ready to snap back a retort and then her breath caught.

Lord, he was toned. She knew, of course, that tight leather hid nothing. But wow seeing his biceps bunch as he casually covered his chest was so much more erotic. There was something nervous and sensual in the movement all at the same time. His body looked posed and graceful; but he'd always had the posture and movement of a dancer. Her eyes focused on what she could see of his abs, the way his hip bones slanted over the tops of his jeans. God, those jeans. They were a light fabric, tailor made, sculpting his legs.

Underneath, his toes touched, almost nervously, mismatched with the whole image.

“Um…” he started nervously, shifting under her gaze. Her eyes zoomed up to his face. The mask was gorgeous, accentuating his emerald green eyes, no longer cloaked under the green film of Chat Noir. Wow, those eyes. They were so dreamy she could get lost in them.

“Do I … look bad?” He asked, wincing, shoulders hiking up. The movement was so familiar. If he were Chat Noir, his tail would be curled, his ears drooping. When Ladybug had tried to imagine him undressing it had always been him to put his hands on his hips, strutting out poses, flexing his arms, making stupid puns and totally ruining the intimacy of the moment.

This … this was unexpected.

“What do you think?” She asked coldly. Because there was no way he didn’t know what kind of effect he had on people. Girls probably flocked all over him. He was fit, he was pretty, he was tall, and she would never admit it to him but he was actually kind of funny.

He bit his lip, but wouldn’t say anything more.

 

\---

 

Adrien was shaking. Yeah, it was a little cold in the classroom, rain still showered against the window, but it wasn’t the temperature that threw him. Ladybug coldly assessed him, her eyes taking in every pivot and angle of his body and he knew without a doubt that she’d see everything he was hiding.

That maybe she’d already realized.

“Right now, you look like a cold stray,” she said, touching her chin thoughtfully, head tilting. There it was again. That metaphor. It just … resonated. “Put down your arms so I can see.”

It was already moving so fast. Taking off the Chat Noir mask was daunting. He could be fully clothed and still not really know how to face her. What would she do when she learned about the sad boy afraid of being alone? Then again, this had nothing to do with identity. She'd created a new mask, recreated his image to her design. It felt like at the same time she was protecting his amenity with the woven mask, she was making a statement. A clear line separating the truth of him from this space they shared. He had to do everything to follow this path. Live up to her expectations.

But what did she actually want from him?

“Chat,” she snapped, pulling him from his thoughts. “Your arms.”

“R-right,” he managed, trying to form a small smile. Slowly, he pulled back his arms, letting them rest to his sides, wondering if she’d immediately notice the hint of his ribs. Or if she thought his stomach looked flabby. If she noticed how big his arms had gotten lately. That his wrists were bony.

She inhaled, her hand moving up to cover her mouth as she walked around him. Inspecting, analyzing. God, it was terrible to think but it reminded him of his fittings. How his father would stop by to see how the collection was coming along, ruthlessly pointing out every detail and flaw. By the time she made it back around, she had to have noticed his shaking.

Her voice was a whisper. “Why are you crying?"

He’d be so caught in his head that he barely noticed the tears building under the mask. His hands moved up, trying to dry his eyes, hoping he hadn’t damaged the material. “S-sorry.”

Her voice moved closer to his ear. Soft as silk. “Are you still upset about earlier?”

“I’m fine,” he assured, pulling down his arms again, plastering a fake smile. Ladybug’s eyes slanted down, and she tip-toed right up to his face. Almost close enough to—

“Put your arms behind your back,” she uttered, her gaze lowering to his lips, her expression hooded as if maybe she wanted to ... He trembled as her eyes met his again. “Or I can turn around and you can put your clothes back on. Your choice.”

“Ladybug,” he uttered, trying for a pun or flirtation. But all he could do was pull his arms back, wrists locking, his gaze shamefully pointed to the floor. How cruel of her to put the decision in his hands. He wasn’t sure he could handle any consequences.

Ladybug finally moved, walking behind him with slow sureness. Her fingers touched his shoulder, small spandex tips lingering down the long line of his arm. Then her hands clasped his elbows, folding his arms up. He shivered as she repositioned him, stacking one forearm over the other, causing his back to almost bow from where she pulled.

Molding him to the shape she desired.

“That’s better,” she said, drawing one finger down and up his spine. Like a jolt of electricity. “You’re quite sensitive, aren’t you?”

He nodded, arms shaking to remain where she put them. Her hands were gone and he heard her rustling. Rain dripped out the seconds, pattering faster than his shivering heart, spiking his fear. Then he felt soft silk run against the hairs on his arm.

Adrien let out a slow exhalation. The silk moved under his arms, slid against his back, wove in and out between the two, wrapping up from his wrists to his elbows like a strange glove. Tighter it pulled and he found himself relaxing into it. The bounds were familiar and at the same time gentler, lighter. The ribbon squeezed as she tied a bow at the center, his arms squished against his back.

“How pretty,” she murmured to herself. “You can't move them, can you?"

He tested his range, letting his shoulders droop. Then she touched his binding, pushing him forward. Light, subtle movements were enough to have him guided across the room. It was acrobatic, routine, so easy to step where she wanted, to do what she wanted. After making a round, soaking in the pitter-patter of the rain, she brought him to a chair.

“Sit,” she ordered.

He turned, looking down at her fierce expression. Her mouth was tight, teeth drawing in her inner cheek in concentration. Their eyes met as he lowered himself in the chair and he swore she moved with him, hovering, anticipating. His arms pressed against the hard back and her hands pushed against his shoulders. Seeing the scarlet red of her gloves, stark against the white of his skin …

“Do you know what we’re doing today?” She asked conversationally. As if she were inquiring about a class assignment or a friendly outing.

“No, Ladybug."

Something shifted in her expression, her hands moving off him. She stood tall, hands on her hips as she stared down at him and she looked almost unsure of this. Of him.

“I’m going to tie your legs to this chair,” she explained, pulling a strip of thin silk from the bag at her side. “You won’t be able to move at all. Anyone could walk in and you’d just be sitting there. Half-naked, masked, and totally exposed. A desperate pervert getting his fix at school. How utterly humiliating.”

Ladybug knelt in front of him, stretching the silk taunt between her hands. With a rough pull, she moved his leg open, shoving it into the chair leg. The silk wove around his jeans, pinning the rough material to his ankle. He couldn’t see anything but the top of her head, her shoulders moving as she worked. As she repeated the same movements to the other leg, hurriedly, roughly, the reality of the situation started to sink in.

Not even Chat Noir could hide him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is Ladybug trying to do? Will Chat be okay? Find out next time, haha. 
> 
>  
> 
> Let me know what you think :D


	13. Only You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: full steam ahead~

Ladybug was getting more anxious by the second. Something was _wrong_. Chat wasn’t lively, wasn’t engaged. He just stared at her, tears sliding unnoticed down his mask, shaking softly. The classroom was cold, sure, but somehow this seemed something more. What started as a sexy idea had quickly turned into a situation she didn’t know how to handle.

Because she had no idea who was staring up at her underneath that mask.

“Try moving,” she ordered, testing him. She saw his knees bob, then his shoulders rise, before leaning back against the chair again. The movements were subtle. Effortless.

“You’re totally at my mercy,” she cooed, hoping another verbal jab might get a rise out of him. “I could do anything I wanted to you and you couldn’t fight me off.”

That seemed to spark something in his eyes, fleeting. His voice was so quiet,

“What are you going to do to me?”

“I thought maybe I ought to reward you,” she drawled, pretending like she was considering multiple possibilities. “You took your punishment so well last time.”

Still, nothing. He looked ashamed, his body curling in, like he could slowly disappear.

“Then again, you did cause me a lot of trouble with that akuma today.”

Which, yeah not really, just some panic about his safety and another fiery feeling she wasn’t quite ready to label. She knew she shouldn’t focus on it. Chat wasn’t hers. He could flirt with girls if he wanted to. He hadn’t done anything wrong. This was just something for both of them to enjoy. Yet, he just sat there. Waiting.

Her hand moved to stroke his head, tugging his hair just enough to lift his face.

“Well?”

“Punish me,” he whispered, surprising her.

“What am I punishing you for?” She asked, tugging his head to the side, enjoying the long lines of his neck, the muscle connecting to shoulder.

“Whatever you want, my lady.”

Ladybug supposed she should be happy as a dom. He was obviously submitting which meant he both trusted her actions and _wanted_ her actions. But she didn’t really want to hurt him. The way he looked, fragile, cold, sad, she wanted to untie him, bundle him up, maybe give him some hot chocolate and pet his hair. But she had to remind herself that this moment was his too.

So instead, she leaned forward, pressing her lips on his neck. Her teeth scraped playfully, her tongue stroked intimately, and his breathing stuttered. He let out a little gasp as she found the spot between his shoulder and neck, the pliant muscle deliciously supple. Then she sucked. Hard.

“Ah!” He startled, arms jolting. She froze, pulling back.

“Not so loud,” she warned.

“Sorry, I just—” he cut himself off, biting his lip. God what she wouldn’t give to hear him finish whatever the hell that statement was.

“Don’t bite,” she teased, pushing his mouth with her finger. “Wouldn’t want to bruise your pretty lips, chaton.”

His cheeks pinkened. “Huh?”

Ladybug supposed she should feel embarrassed, calling a boy pretty, admitting that she was very, very attracted to pretty boys. But wasn't that the point of all this? She didn’t have to feel embarrassed. This was something he _asked_ her to do. He was hers to do whatever she wanted with. It was okay to desire him. 

“Don’t act like you don’t know Chaton,” she teased instead, letting him handle the embarrassment. “You know there are girls with your silly pictures on their phones, right? They take them off the Ladyblog and swoon over you and pretend you're in love with them.”

He actually scoffed, some color returning to his face. “No, they don’t.”

“And I just have to sit there and listen to it,” she pressed, ignoring his denial. “Trying my damned best not to bust out laughing when they talk about how suave you must be, how gentlemanly, how worldly. I wonder what they’d think about all your puns? About _this_?”

“You’re actually serious?” Chat asked, his face splitting into a grin. “That’s so stupid.”

It struck her as odd. _Does he really not know how popular he is?_ “Oh, you wouldn’t believe a certain girl’s fantasy about things you can do with your tongue.”

His brow furrowed. “Like what?”

She leaned up to whisper in his ear. “She think’s it’s rough. Like a cat’s.”

Chat laughed, hard, enough for her to need to lean back. God, watching his chest move the red of the blush move past his collarbone… He was blinking, trying to get the tears out of his face,  head subtly jerking. Her hand moved to wipe them, realizing just how much he was in her possession. As his mouth slowly parted, his eyes following the action, she knew he realized it too.

“That would make kissing really unpurrsurable,” he finally started, still snickering. Realizing he had no idea what she was insinuating, she drew a finger down his collarbone, to his stomach.

“That depends on where,” she confided, finger dipping against his abs.

The exact second he realized his laughter dissipated, leaving him wide-eyed and anxious.

She laughed at his sweet innocence. “Ah, kitty, you really don’t know, do you?”

 

\---

              

“About me?” Chat demanded in disbelief. “Doing that? To who?”

It was like a sudden slap back to reality. He knew, somewhat, that girls liked ads of him as Adrien. But that was the make-up, the camera angles, the excitement of fame. Underneath all the clothes he was just a rack, a hanger, skinny and sad. Why would anyone actually want that?

“You don’t actually want me to answer that,” she teased, placing a finger on those lips. “Girls don’t spill each other’s secrets. And, oh, what secrets I know.”

His heart hammered in his chest. “About _me_?”

Chat wasn’t sure he liked that. Strangers taking in his body, molding it to their expectations, _using_ him to find some intimate pleasure. God, just thinking about the way some of the guys talked about Ladybug when they first started hero work pissed him off. He’d gone off on multiple lectures about objectification and female bodies, surprising Nino with his sudden passion. It was probably how Nino figured out he had a crush on Ladybug in the first place. It'd had been his first time in a school locker room. A few baudy statements and gross suggestions and he'd almost punched a guy. 

Everyone made sure to avoid talking about Ladybug in front of him after that.

“You really didn’t know,” Ladybug murmured, face looking vacant. “It never occurred to you?”

People rarely talked about Chat Noir as it was. Ladybug took the spotlight, the praise, and he was totally fine with that. That was the point of Chat Noir. To get away from the roving eyes. The heavy weight of expectation. Chat could do whatever he wanted. He thought no one cared.

“Superhero of Paris, brave and kind and housed in sexy black leather,” she teased, brushing the hair off his face. “Superheroes are the latest trend, you know. And unlike the movies, you’re real. All this sexy muscle, those pouty lips, your cute butt. Girls think you’re fuckable.”

_Holy hell._ Ladybug thought he was sexy. Ladybug said he was fuckable. He could feel her whispers on his face, knew he was hard as steel. “I’m just a side-kick.”

Ladybug grasped his chin, glaring. “We’re _partners_. I don’t do side-kicks.”

The moment it left his mouth he knew he was in for it. “But you’d do me, right?”

Adrien had said it softly, failing to deliver it with the punch such a line meant to have. Ladybug blinked, her cheeks growing pink, her delicate lips slowly parting. As if realizing this, she moved her arm in front of her face, blinking rapidly as she looked away from him. Had he ruined the moment? Whatever this was, they were trying to be casual, right? He probably came off as too serious, too desperate with that line. But, then again, she _liked_ when he was being desperate. She got so bold when she started accusing him of being a pervert. She liked the power. And, as hard as it was to admit, he loved being caught and noticed, maybe even granted the things he secretly desired from her.

“You, uh,” she uttered, flustered, trying to meet his eyes. “Don’t get cocky.”

With a wide grin, he meaningfully looked back at his lap and then up at her. “It’s a little late for that LB.”

“Is it?” She teased, finger sliding down the front of his jeans. Just that small brush sent a wave of pleasure jolting up his spine. He bit his lip to keep quiet and damn if she noticed.

Ladybug’s eyes never left his, not even when she casually pet him again.

“What got you hard this time?” She asked, surprising him. “You didn’t respond when I tied your arms or made you strip. Not even when I gave you that juicy story about tongues. I thought you weren’t an exhibitionist. You really get off on the idea that tons of girls are into you?”

Chat huffed out a breath, surprised he was able to even stay this still when his whole body was twinging with arousal. The binding was almost security as it kept him from reaching out and touching her. It occurred to him that just as she did with akuma attacks, Ladybug was studying him. Placing verbal attacks, pulling back, gauging his reactions. But having her directly ask, those blue eyes narrowing with confusion and disapproval, he realized exactly what this little meet-up was about.

Ladybug wanted to know how to turn him on.

She grabbed his chin, pulling his head forward. “You answer me when I ask a question, Chat.”

Hngh, she could pull him around all day and he’d follow. “Yes, bugaboo.”

“Was it the girls or what?”

“You’re the one who said not to bring other people into our meetings,” he teased, realizing there was still some remnants of jealousy stirring in her. He dropped his grin when she tsked at him.

“I’m flattered, really, that you think girls are into me,” he tried to explain, shrugging his face out of her hand. “But even if they were, they’d be disappointed once they saw me stripped.”

Ladybug looked thoughtful, her lips thinning.

 

\---

 

“Why would they be disappointed?”

It was too weird. Chat had to know how attractive he was, there was no way he couldn’t, but his tone sobered real quick when he admitted girls wouldn’t find him attractive. As much as she wanted to continue roving his delicious body, she couldn’t ignore this big of a misunderstanding.

“I’m too bulky. Men in my family run tall so I’m supposed to be slender.”

She snorted in disbelief and his brow pinched tight as if she’d slapped him. “Chat, you _are_ slender. Just because you have muscle doesn’t mean you’re some macho man. It all depends on where you carry it. You aren't going to suddenly bulk up, geez. Don’t tell me you started taking steroids or something.”

“I’m not,” he quickly defended. “But I can’t help it. We’re fighting akuma’s day in and out and then I have to run all over the city to get to my jobs and—”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Ladybug cut him off, panicking. Not many people their age had jobs and if he talked about the type of work it’d be even easier to find him.  “Be careful with what you’re saying.”

Realization hit his expression and he looked almost panicked. _Why?_ Hadn’t he been the one so desperate for them to know each other? It had been little more than a week since all this began and she couldn’t figure out what changed in such little time. Because everything was constantly changing.

“Sorry,” he finally settled on. “My life is a bit hectic and unusual.”

There was something important hiding in those words. “Really? I always thought you lazed around and hung out with friends. You’re always so relaxed.”

He snorted. “Yeah, when I’m with you.”

God, that intrigued her. What was he like when he _wasn’t_ around her? He could be downright intimidating in battle, almost a different person when all the jokes fell aside and that brimming determination burned in his eyes. Yet, now he almost sounded quiet, shy even. She wondered who had placed the ludicrous idea that he was unattractive, who made him believe so little in himself.

“Chat, I don’t know who tells you those kinds of things, but they’re dead wrong,” she said, instead, placing a hand over his heart. “You’re so sexy it pisses me off.”

His breath hitched, eyes brightly wavering. Like he didn’t believe her.

“Just look at these abs,” she pressed, fingers gliding down each divot. “You're shredded. How am I supposed to look at them and not lick them?”

“Ladybug,” he whispered, looking almost scared when she leaned forward to teasingly flick her tongue. Her breasts settled on his lap as she looked up at him, hands roving on his chest again.

“How am I supposed to fight akumas with all this distracting me?” she continued, finger sliding on his pink nipples. “Mm, sensitive _and_ pretty.”

His body was shaking, his breathing getting more erratic. 

She rose up his body, arching her back. “And these broad shoulders. Perfect for hanging on to.”

Her hands tugged his shoulders forward as she pressed her nose to his collarbone, breathing in his masculine smell. The reality of him, hard yet pliant, was better than anything she imagined. Just feeling him had her on edge. It was so, so hard to resist throwing herself on him, sucking his lips to hers, grinding for a climax. That would be the simple way.

Instead, her lips glided up to his neck, sucking on the other side, her hands trailing down his bunched arms. He moaned, hips lightly thrusting.

“I think I figured it out,” she whispered, up the side of his jaw.

“Wh-what?” He whispered back, expression dazed.

Mischievously, she nipped his ear. “You want to be desired.”

She pulled back so she could study his face. If she was right, he’d melt, a puddle of embarrassment. Vulnerable and ready to be molded into whatever she wanted.

Of course, he was always surprising her.

“Only by you,” Chat said steadily, somber and serious. She swallowed, aware of every sensitive bud on her tongue, wanting so desperately to ravage his mouth. Marinette had wasted so much painful time pining over a boy that never even noticed her. Nights she’d rolled in her own mind, replaying every single failure, remembering everything about her that was wrong. Feeling just as much disappointment as relief when guys professed their love one week then drew away the next. Wondering what it was about her that shattered their fantasies.

Was she desperate for affection too? It didn’t matter. She was the dom. She didn’t have to be desperate for anything.

“You promise?” She purred instead, finger pad circling the button on his jeans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whatever will they do next? Sorry for another cliff hanger guys.
> 
>  
> 
> Hopefully, the story still feels like it's flowing well and the way they react to each other makes sense. I can't help but get anxious about it sometimes. I really appreciate everyone continuing to go on this wacky adventure with me. 
> 
>  
> 
> Thoughts and comments welcome.


	14. Blown Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: The wait is over.

It had to be a dream.

That was the only thing that made sense. There was no way Ladybug was seducing him with that sultry voice, those glinting eyes, her soft hands slowly unzipping his pants.

“Wait,” he uttered, heart fluttering so much it hurt. “A-are you sure?”

Ladybug paused, looking up. “You don’t want me to?”

God, this felt like a trap. Say no and piss her off by lying. Say yes and ruin things by moving too fast. She had him in the palm of her hand, manipulating him down to his every movement, his every word. The freedom to choose was his and yet somehow she _owned_ him. “I want whatever you want.”

Ladybug smiled, stoking down the seam of his jeans again. “Good. Lift up your waist.”

This was crazy. He couldn’t even remember being naked in front of his parents as a kid. His dressing rooms were private and even in hair and make-up his lower half was always concealed. No one had ever seen him down there period, let alone when he was sporting a raging hard on.

Had she even seen a dick before?

“Or I could make you come like this,” she teased, pressing her flat palm against his bulge. A wave of pleasure followed the movement and he shuddered. “You seem close.”

It was a familiar method. She was honest, blunt, always putting out her terms to the extreme. Refreshing compared to everyone else he knew. But then, gauging the oppositions reaction, she’d pull back, modifying, adapting. It was what made her such a good class president. A great superhero.

He lifted his waist, refusing to let her settle.

She hummed, pulling down the material of his jeans, latex fingers sliding on his black boxers.

“Agreste?” She murmured, stroking the band.

Adrien froze, terrified.

“I didn’t peg you as someone who wore designer clothing,” Ladybug said thoughtfully, pad of her thumb tracing the name emblazoned on the band.

“O-o-oh are they?” he stammered, trying to let his held out breath slowly. Trying not to suffocate. Why the hell did their label even have underwear? Why was he wearing it?!

“Sorry, you know I’m a designer, so clothing labels, fabric, coordination, I uh … just notice these things,” She squeaked, looking just as awkward as he felt. There was that familiar draw of her brow, that look of fierce contemplation as her lips pursed.

_Oh,_ he realized. _She’s thinking about_ me _._

“I would think you have more pressing issues,” he teased, trying to get her mind off it. Because for all intents and purposes he was Chat Noir. Their backgrounds, the baggage, none of that mattered. Once he put the mask on, he was whatever she wanted. Whoever.

“Yes, let’s get these out of the way,” she murmured coyly, lifting up the band. Tentatively he raised his hips, watching her slowly undress him. Her eyes widened with surprise—and would it be conceited to think desire?—as his cock sprang free.

God, it was excruciating. Her absolute silence. The cold gathering around him. The thoughtful look on her expression.

“You’re big,” she said, swallowing, drawing his eyes to her pouty lips.

He snorted. “You don’t have to say that kind of stuff, my lady.”

Her hand nervously hovered over him, then pulled back, her eyes looking up at him as if asking for permission. And wasn’t that odd? Considering he could do nothing but sit and watch. But then, she shook, steeling herself as her hand wrapped around the base.

He slowly exhaled, overwhelmed by the soft press of her hand.

“It feels different than I thought,” she murmured, fingers gliding up towards the crown. All his muscles flexed, trying to stay still. He wouldn’t seem desperate. He wouldn’t interrupt her.

“You’re already leaking,” she teased, thumb circling the tip, causing him to curl forward to stop himself from thrusting. God, he hadn’t realized how aroused he was. Just fleeting touches and she had him on edge. How was he supposed to last like this?

“Sensitive too,” she praised, leaning forward on his thighs. “You’re going to cum soon, right?”

Instead of answering, he whimpered.

“I want to see how you do it,” Ladybug cooed, a little smirk on her face. “Maybe next time?”

Because apparently his erection would be prominently featured in future meetings. He could already see it, Ladybug towering over him, barking out orders, forcing him to—

“Too bad you’re all tied up and needy,” she continued, fingers descending back to the base. “You can’t even do anything to make it better. Just have to sit there and beg for it.”

Did she want him to beg? “Ladybug...”

“Hm, just imagine the mess we’ll make. Then someone will come in to clean the floors and notice some very peculiar stains. Will they suspect what we do in here?”

God, would he ever be able to walk into this room again and not remember this?

“For all we know, they already know,” she purred, eyes dancing. “You’re so loud kitty.”

“Not today,” he whispered, shaking, trying his best to last for her. Be good for her. Ladybug leaned closer, her breath softly dancing on his shaft as she replied,

“I must not be doing my job then.”

 

\---

 

Where did the desire come from? By mere association, oral sex was an action of submission. One where you surrendered your own pleasure to please another. One where you became a mere object, an orifice for someone else’s desire. She’d always thought of the act as degrading, imagined it tied with men barking orders at her, pulling back her hair, forcing her down and taking her.

But just one soft press of her lips and _he_ was crying. She hadn’t thought it, but he was an easy crier. She’d bet he cried at kid’s movies during those moments they tried to get you to believe the main character died. Maybe it was because he kept everything bottled up. First, in his pleasant façade of jokes and lightheartedness. Then, in whatever form he held in his civilian life.

He was crying with release and she ate it up.

“You like that?” she teased, leaning forward to lick upwards.

“Y-yes,” he managed, shaking, panting.

“I’ve never done this before,” she confessed, enjoying the thrill of that. This was _their_ moment. No one else knew his body; he belonged to her. “Your cock is a lot of fun.”

“Mm,” he whimpered, eyes flinching shut, face turning a lovely pink.

“What does it feel like?” Marinette asked, because curiosity always got the better of her. He stared down at her, letting out a slow sigh, chest heaving.

“Torture.”

“You like it though,” she grinned, giving the tip a quick peck. “Does it feel _nice_?”

Chat panted as she ran her lips down the side, licking as she came back up. It surprised her how much she wanted him in her mouth. But instead she sat there, playfully kissing and licking, taking her sweet time tasting him, resisting the urge to take him any deeper.

“Fuck,” he muttered, probably unintentionally. “Ah!” Even with his rising embarrassment, his body’s tensing, his eyes never wavered from watching her.Like he was bewitched.

“Ladybug, please,” he moaned, pushing back against the chair. It screeched against the floor.

He was quivering, slick with sweat. “Stop…”

“Why?” She purred, moving forward to meet him, lips slightly parting, light nipping the tip as she finally sucked his pulsing length between her lips.

“Ahh, fuck, r-red!” he begged. It took every muscle in her body to keep herself still. They’d put those words in place to protect him from harm. Did she accidentally hurt him?

“What’s wrong?” Her voice was low and smoky. Unrecognizable even. His sculpted body was flushed and ready above her, those dark eyes begging for everything she was desperate to give.

“I’ll cum,” he blurted, eyes screwing shut. “You’ll get dirty, I can’t st—”

“It’s okay,” she interrupted, squeezing his thigh. “Just let it happen.”

“But—”

“Why do you think I’m on my knees for you?” she pressed, gripping his waist. “Tell me you want it too.”

Chat swallowed, his eyes brimming with desire and something dangerously like love. She waited, hoping he’d let her continue, preparing herself for the disappointment when he said no.

 “Yes, my lady.”

Her thighs were shaking with desire. “Cum for me, chaton. That's an order.”

She lowered her mouth, done with games, taking him in deep. He let out another cry and she couldn’t remember to even care as heat permeated through her head. Her own hand trailed down her stomach, sliding against her wet suit, as she moaned around his throbbing cock. It wasn’t long before he tensed, trembled. She could feel the orgasm running through him. Just as he tried to scoot back again, she grabbed his waist again, securing him as she swallowed his cum.

Her own orgasm was still waiting but as she pulled back, the salty taste lingering on her tongue, she found that she didn’t care. Chat was panting, his chest shaking with every breath as he stared down at her, incredulous. She grinned, then playfully licked her lips as she slowly rose from the ground.

“Good boy,” she purred, running a hand through his hair, petting him. He rubbed his head against her, lips sliding on her wrist affectionately, eyes darkening when he asked,

“Your turn?”

Marinette wasn’t sure what panicked her more. The implications of what they were about to do or the loud steps of a man stomping through the hall yelling, “damn kids again!”

 

\---

 

Adrien shook, assaulted by the sudden transition from pleasure to terror. Ladybug looked off her game as well, her wide eyes resembling his anxious classmate more than anything. She quickly pulled up his clothes and he lifted his waist, still sensitive as cotton brushed him. Then she stood up, face bright pink as she stiffly walked toward the door.

He didn’t dare make a sound.

Ladybug opened the door, positioning herself right in the crack, hip leaning on the frame. He knew, being sequestered in the corner, no one could see him from that angle. But it didn’t stop him from sucking in his breath, as if even that sound would expose him.

“Good evening,” Ladybug said smoothly to whoever was in the hall. The rubber of shoes squeaked on the polished floor.

“Ladybug! Don’t tell me there’s an akuma here!”

“I certainly hope not.” Her voice was lower than usual, husky and unbearably sexy. “I hope I didn’t bother you. I noticed there were a lot of students from this school who had been akumatized and I’ve been looking around to see if there are any clues why.”

Had she thought this up on the spot? Because, yeah, she had a point now that he thought about it. Was it because Hawkmoth was getting closer to discovering their identities?

“Well, you should be careful,” the janitor was saying. “The floors in that room are old.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Where’s Chat Noir? I thought you did everything together.”

His heart hammered in his chest. All it would take was one small shift in her expression and he’d be exposed. Just like she said. Anyone could take one look at him, tied and shaking, and know _exactly_ what Ladybug had done. Just one look and they’d know he’d wanted it.

“Searching around the quad,” she answered. “Sorry if we scared you. We’ll be done soon.”

How the hell was she acting so cool and professional? Just a second ago, she’d been just as panicked as he was. And before that, she’d been—

“Thank you, Ladybug. For everything you do.”

“No problem. I’ll be on my way.” She was already backing out of the door, trying to close it.

“It would be safer this way” the janitor insisted. “That room’s under repair.”

“I came in through the open window. I’ll close it on my way out. Wouldn’t want to trouble you.”

The janitor huffed in annoyance. “Damn kids, probably came in there to smoke. You haven’t happened to see anyone around, have you? Been some kids sneaking in here.”

“Just me,” she said breezily. “But Chat mentioned there might some kids nears Damocles office. They’ve been trying to get a video of him turning into the Owl. Is he still here?”

The janitor chuckled. “Unfortunately. Makes it hard for me to lock up. Tell Chat Noir thanks for the tip.”

Just like that the jangle of keys and stomp of boots faded away. Ladybug closed the door and leaned against it, slowly sinking down to the floor as she covered her face.

“That was so fucking close,” she muttered to herself, almost too soft for him to hear.

“I can’t believe you lied to him,” Chat teased. “How unpurrfessional.”

Ladybug sent him a fiery glare. “Hey, one scream and he’ll come right back. Don’t test me.”

“Don’t get testy,” he retorted back. She snorted as she moved around to untie his arms.

“We’re done?” He asked, hoping he could mask the disappointment in his tone. For a brief moment, he’d seen it in her eyes. That heady mix of desire and fear. The excitement he cause with his daring suggestion. God, would she have let him?

“I don’t think we should meet here anymore,” she replied, stepping away to kneel in front of him and untie his feet. The position reminded him that just moments ago she had been sucking him off. Excitedly, even. It was something he’d never dared imagine in any of his fantasies. The thought of her just being interested in him was enough. Hell, they hadn’t even kissed and yet somehow—

“Hm? Oh, yeah that might not be a good idea,” he admitted, deflated. Would everything already be over before it began? They had been good before. Maybe he could go back to just being her friend, coaxing out small details of her life, hiding everything about his, trying to swallow his own feelings for her.

The thought made his stomach curl.

“I’ll head out first,” she said softly, stepping away from him, sending his heart scrambling. She picked up her hand-stitched bag from the floor, placing it in one of the abandoned desks in the corner. “Just leave everything in here and I’ll come pick it up another time.”

“My arms,” he uttered, quietly, pulling against his bonds as he struggled to find balance enough to stand. Instead, he felt pin-pricks of pins and needles shooting through his numb muscles. He hissed a breath, realizing he’d put all his weight into them in those last moments of ecstasy.

Ladybug looked sheepish. “Turn around.”

Adrien obeyed, feeling her quickly tugging at the black ribbon. He wanted to say something to her. Anything. But he was too afraid, too choked up on his own feelings, hoping she’d be the one to reach out instead. Just something to let him know this wasn’t the last time, that he’d been good for her, that she still admired him even after seeing the scared sack of bones he was underneath.

Pain dotted down his arms as the blood reached through them. Ladybug lowered them to his sides, her palms still curling over his closed fists.

He almost didn’t hear her. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Adrien shook his head, his chest pinching in anyway. Somehow, he knew she wasn’t asking about his arms. If he could get it out would she listen to him? But she let go, striding toward the window, foot planted on the sill as she prepared to launch her yo-yo.

“See you tomorrow then,” she finally said, giving him one last look over her shoulder.

Adrien watched her go. He always did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol, just when you thought we'd escaped the angst train it pulled back into the station. 
> 
> Well, that's the steamiest thing I've ever written. Sex writing is incredibly weird, let me know if it worked or not haha.


	15. Internal Chaos

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prepare yourselves for PLOT.

Marinette spent the next few days contemplating what happened between them. She’d run into Chat two times already due to akuma battles but the interactions had been brief. Stilted even. He’d give her that two clawed salute of his, bounding away on his staff, leaving her fist without its usual bumping partner. On the outside, it was almost like everything was back to normal. It was exactly what she wanted every since that crazy night.

At least she thought.

Instead, a slow frustration and confusion was building in her. _Did I do something wrong?_ It wasn’t like Chat to avoid her; if anything, he was always getting in her face . This session had been weird. Part of it had been selfishness, it always was, but another part of her had been really trying for him. She’d gone way further than she thought she would. Her original intention was to just touch him a bit and tease him. But he seemed so lost, wavering in and out of the moment, and she’d wanted to capture him. Make him feel as good as she did. What did he like, what made him happy? He once told her he didn’t know and she was starting to get scared that maybe she didn’t either.

Alya had noticed her drop in mood, but Adrien had coincidentally gone missing again and she attributed it to him. Of course, that was worrisome in its own way. Just last week his dad had grounded him and now was out again. At this rate Adrien was going to school less than 50% of the time. How did he manage to keep his grades on top of the class? Gabriel Agreste was a top designer, one of her major influences, but she could help but feel a bit of unease whenever she heard his voice on the news lately. Nino had said some things before: mostly about the stress of work and just being a teenager. Adrien told them it was fine but … she had to wonder sometimes.

 _Would_ he _understand Chat?_ Adrien always seemed to know what to say. All it took was for him to open his mouth, give that gentle smile, and the whole room would light up. She bet he would have looked at Chat’s insecurities and soothed them all away. Maybe Chat needed a gentle dom, maybe Adrien ... The thought of that made her uncomfortable. Two attractive boys in a scene? Please, god, never let those two boys be in the same room. She didn’t think she could handle the steam. Or the guilt.

 _I wish I could talk to him,_ she sighed, staring at his empty chair with longing.

“When’s Adrien coming back?” Alya asked Nino, noticing Marinette’s expression.

Nino slowly turned to them, something cautious in his expression. “Tomorrow, probably.”

“What gives?”

“You remember that rain akuma? You know, Sadako on steroids?”

 Alya leaned forward, investigation mode activated. “Yeah, that model chick, right?”

“I guess Adrien’s car got totaled and he and his driver were separated. Took him a couple hours to make it back home and his dad was pissed,” Nino answered, his nose scrunching up. “I mean, yeah doesn’t want him walking to school without his bodyguard or anything but still … “

Marinette had an inkling the car issue was only part of the problem. “Didn’t they have a fashion shot yesterday as well?”

“Oh, did they?” Nino asked, no longer surprised at Marinette’s abundance of information on Adrien. She’d tried to hold back, honestly, but there was something soothing about knowing where he was all the time. If she didn't she'd get anxious, worried that he'd hurt or akumatized.  _I’m a god-damned creep,_ she chastised, accepting it.

“Explains why he was texting me about that model chick,” Nino continued, with a wry grin. “Apparently, she’s threatening to go all akuma on the money people or something if she doesn’t get her way. Adrien’s been trying to talk her down, but he’s too chill to be persuasive sometimes.”

“She’s lucky Adrien even gives her the time of day!” Chloe fumed, apparently taking the excuse of free work to insert herself into their conversations. Marinette tried to hold in her scowl, she really did, “He’s not some charity worker. You three are lucky he puts up with you! Especially you Dupain-Cheng! Imagine if he knew how much a freak you were. He’d never talk to you again!”

Chloe was right. Adrien was so kind he’d probably be disgusted by her wanting to hurt Chat. There was only so much he could understand. _He would totally hate me…_

“Says the girl who wears the same three outfits,” Ayla snapped back, fire burning in her eyes.

“Excuse moi for knowing what looks fashionable,” Chloe huffed, flipping back her hair. “It’s better than wearing a multitude of rags. Quality over quantity, you know.”

If Chloe wasn’t such a total bitch, maybe she’d be someone to talk to about dominance. She certainly had that air of superiority down pat. “Chloe if you don’t have anything interesting to say, why are you even bothering to talk to us?”

“It’s part of my own charity work, gracing you plebeians with my fountains of wisdom,” Chloe laughed, chin raised with confidence. “Adrien is always going to do the nice thing so don’t get conceited! He’s even gotten himself in trouble for arguing about getting mental health care for the models; can you believe it? It’s not hard to be pretty; if they can’t handle it then just quit.”

Marinette bit her lip. It was one thing thinking it, but another hearing it, especially from Chloe. Maybe she shouldn’t have been so mean to that model the other day. Being an akuma was scary; it was important to talk to the victims and make sure they were okay. Chat had been trying to tell her that.

Ayla, of course, jumped on the opportunity, “Then why aren’t you one?”

“My perfect face selling clothes?” Chloe laughed, waving away the thought. “Utterly ridiculous, they couldn’t pay enough for my image. Modelling is a boring job anyway, Adrien told me so. In fact, you all should be paying me for even letting you look at me right now.”

Sabrina shook beside her, reaching for the coin purse in her desk, trembling at the idea of trying to quantify Chloe’s glory. Chloe raised an eyebrow, slightly turning at the sound.

“But as I said, I’m extremely charitable and know you can’t afford it anyway, so I don’t bother,” Chloe informed them, crossing her arms confidently. No one bothered to respond to this and the conversation hushed as Mrs. Bustier passed by and gave them uneasy reminders to finish their work.

Marinette did her best, but of course, her thoughts were racing back again. Adrien’s approach with Jeanne interested her. Just like he did with Chloe, instead of accepting her behaviors as her character and lashing out he seemed to look at things from her perspective. _Gosh, I love that boy,_ Marinette sighed, hands cradling her cheeks. _I wish I was as kind as him._

“Hey, Alya,” she murmured, hesitant. Alya always had good advice, even if she could be nosy sometimes.

Alya didn’t even look up from her work, furiously scribbling out an answer. “Hm?”

“I wanted your advice about my online friend.”

The pencil clattered and she moved right into Marinette’s personal bubble, her grin wide and excited as she stared her down. “Do tell. I’ve been forgetting to tease you with Adrien gone.”

Marinette shrank back, already regretting her decision. “It’s nothing …”

“Aw, boo, did you fight again?”

“Weren’t you guys going to meet up on that rainy day?” Nino interjected, showing way more interest and focus than she would have expected from him. “What happened?”

Their gazes became oppressive and she almost wanted to shrink into her seat. She hadn't expected this much interest, had no idea why they cared. Thank god Adrien wasn’t there with that adorable curious light shining in his eyes. “He, um, hasn’t been online as much. I think something happened to him.”

“How am I suppose to work without any material?” Ayla sighed, shaking her head. “Sometimes you are like a stubborn clam, you know that? Give me deets!”

“Marinette, What do you think happened?” Nino added, giving his girlfriend an exasperated look.

“Nothing with me. I think, anyway,” she confessed quietly, wishing she had more to give them. “But I think he was stressed from his job. He has a lot of responsibilities.”

 Ayla’s brow quirked. “You sure he’s not a working adult?”

“I’m sure,” Marinette pressed, lips pursing.

This seemed to excite her. “Oho~ So you’ve finally seen him?”

Alarm sirens blared in her brain. “Wh-wh-what makes you s-s-say that? We j-just ch-chat!”

“You didn’t seem sure before,” Ayla grinned wickedly. “Is he cute?”

Nino was looking away at his phone, apparently not so interested in cute boys.

Marinette’s blush sold her out before she could bother.

“Ah, a love triangle is in the air!” Rose squealing, dancing by their desks. Juleka was following her, giving a thumbs up and a supportive grin. Marinette’s forehead thudded on the desk.

“Good, now you can hang out with your lame NEET boyfriend,” Chloe interjected once more, her tone laced with approval. Alix and Kim laughed at this and Marinette realized the whole class had started listening. Her legs shook beneath the desk and tears gathered. _Fuck, fuck, I shouldn’t have said anything!_ Her heart fluttered, struggling to pump blood to her anxious brain.

“Hey, I totally beat him up for you if he sucks,” Kim offered, high fiving Alix.

Mylene even spoke up, “I can m-make you some couple pins!”

“Of course, should you need, I will assist in tracking down the suspect,” Max added, already clacking away at the laptop he kept in his backpack. “Just tell me the chat forum and username.”

Oh god, Max would know right away she wasn’t chatting with anyone and then they’d ask and they’d realize she was talking about Chat Noir and he’d get exposed and they’d learn about the terrible things she did to him and then Adrien would find out and hate her and—

Mrs. Bustier gave a loud ahem, causing the class to quiet. “I appreciate your support and teamwork of Marinette’s, er, romantic endeavors, but you all should really focus that energy toward completing the class assignment. Isn’t that right, class president?”

Marinette jolted up, hands banging on the table. “INEEDTOGODOSOMETHING!”

Then bolted out the door.

 

\---

 

               **Dudebro: Marinette thinks her internet boyfriend is cute.**

Adrien read Nino’s text, a bit of apprehension and excitement building up in his chest. It had been hard to believe, even harder with the recent photo shoot problems, but she had said he was _perfect._ Did she actually mean that or was that just part of the scene? _Am I actually cute?_ He stared at the photographer, noticing he still wasn’t done with his other shot. Adrien had to wait for a custom tailor again since his shoulders were so broad the larger sizes were draping around his stomach. Since his father had left, at least he wouldn’t have to worry about getting his phone taken away again.

               **Why are you telling me this?**

**Dudebro: Dude, chill everyone is talking about it.**

**Dudebro: I gotta keep my bro in the loop.**

**Dudebro: Plus, you totally seemed like you wanted to know** ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

**Not really.**

**Dudebro: Whatever, man. Chloe’s gonna charge people $$$ to stare at her.**

Adrien snorted at that, imaging her pompous attitude as she held out her hand for money.

               **No, she’s not. :P**

**Dudebro: Okay, but she did say it.**

**Dudebro: Oh shit.**

Adrien lifted an eyebrow, watching the little typing icon go wild.

**Dudebro: Everyone was talking about the internet boyfriend**

**and Marinette ran out the class. Crap, Ayla’s mad at them hold on, brb.**

He clenched the phone, wishing his dad hadn’t pulled him out of class. _What can I do though?_ He thought sadly. Marinette probably would have thought he was making fun of her too.

               **Is she okay? : <**

With a deep breath, he closed his eyes, trying to steady his racing heart. Marinette would be fine. She probably just wanted some space from everyone. _Still, to run out of class is pretty bad. At least she does it for akumas so no one probably thought much of it but…_ Part of him wondered if he could just ditch the shoot, turning into Chat Noir and searching the school for her. But she’d probably lash out again and say something hurtful for both of them.

He was starting to recognize that sometimes she just needed to be alone.

**Dudebro: Alya went to the bathroom to go talk to her.**

**It’s middle school all over again** 😔

Adrien sighed in relief, knowing Ayla would take good care of her.

               **Middle school?**

The minutes to get the replies were agonizing. Too bad Nino was texting in class.

               **Dudebro: Remember how I had a crush on her?**

Adrien already disliked where this was going. He wanted to kick himself for trying to help Nino and Marinette get together. What if he had actually succeeded?

               **Yeah.**

               **Dudebro: Like I wanted to protect her and stuff?**

He distinctly remembered being confused when Nino had told him that before. Only because Marinette was so spunky that he couldn’t imagine her being a damsel type. Then again, Ayla wasn’t either, and she seemed really happy with Nino’s protective sheltering. _Man, I know shit about girls._

               **I guess so.**

**Dudebro: It's because she was bullied really bad.**

Adrien sucked in a breath, watching as Nino quickly typed another reply.

“Agreste, you’re up,” the photographer called as Adrien jumped in his seat. He quickly pocketed his phone, walking onto the set as it buzzed in his pocket. They threw the modified jacket on him, fluffed his hair, and he posed looking into the camera over his shoulder. _Why would anyone bully Marinette, why would you bully anyone, what the hell is wrong with people?_

Familiar shutters clicked. “Nice, intense!”

A slight alteration, the lift of chin, the tilt of the waist. _Is anyone bullying her now? Chloe is a bit mean, but Marinette holds her own fine. Sometimes, they seem like they are joking even._

“Wow, you’re on fire, baby!” Vincent praised. “Keep the intensity, you’re an explosion, the marinara is everywhere and prom is tomorrow!”

Adrien pulled the jacket off, draping it over his shoulder, hand tucked slightly in his pocket, touching the buzzing plastic. His eyes stared out to the studio windows, imagining leaping across the roofs.

“The face, Agreste!” Vincent protested. “Don’t hide the passion!”

He stared back into the camera, jaw clenching as he tried to mask his ire. A photoshoot was the last thing he wanted to be doing right now, damn it.

“Amazing, I think you got it!” Just then his Natalie walked on set, that familiar ipad cradled in her hands as his father stared through it with a discerning eye. He let go of the pose, jacket crumpled in his fist.

“Try actually showing the product in the shot,” his father finally spoke, voice monotone. “And consider the line. We’re trying to sell adolescence not hoodlum aggression.”

Adrien knew that was another jab at Adrien’s choice of friends. His dad had taken one look at Nino and just assumed the worst. _Bigot,_ Adrien let himself think, enjoying that quiet rebellion. Still, he stuffed the jacket on, zipping it up, glad the AC was beating the steadily rising heat outside. He knew why fashion was done in off-seasons, but damn he wished they asked models opinions too.

Natalie came closer and his father examined the jacket, making a pleased hum at the perfect fit. “You can hardly tell. I was afraid the extra bulk would show off your sudden weight gain.”

That pit in his stomach grew. _I’m not fat,_ he protested silently. _Guys can have muscle._

Then again, Ladybug said they weren’t meeting anymore so their sessions were over for good. Maybe femdoms liked tiny guys. It made sense. He was big for his age, would probably grow even more in the next year or so. He was already almost 6ft. Would she dislike that? _But she thinks I’m cute,_ he told himself, his phone almost burning in his pocket. _I can be cute. I just need another chance._

The photoshoot finally finished, his father selecting a softer picture of him sitting on the edge of a table, looking out at the sunlight. It reminded him of his mother, the way she almost blended into the sun itself, her life just as bright and warm. _I miss her,_ he mourned. Slinking into his chair, he opened his phone, reading the chain of texts.

               **Dudebro: For a long time dude, like kindergarten.**

**Dudebro: She was real bossy and the other boys didn’t like that.**

**Don’t tell Ayla, but I was a bit of a crybaby, so we sort of became friends that way.**

**Plus, you know, we’re not** **wonderbread white. Gotta stick together.**

**Dudebro: She got in fights a lot. Bit a kid once.**

**Dudebro: The boys stopped in middle school. But I think the girls were worse.**

**Dudebro: We stopped hanging out a while cuz, you know, middle school.**

**I was getting more into music and she was getting into fashion. And boys. Ugh.**

**Dudebro: That’s why she got mad about the gum thing. I didn’t tell you because we just met.**

**Dudebro: Where’d you go?**

**Dudebro: Hello? :O**

**Dudebro: Whatever, you’ll read it later. Dude, she hasn’t had panic attacks since**

**whatever happened to her in middle school.**

**Ayla’s never seen it and I suck at it. She’ll probably hate me for telling you,**

**but we’re all friends, right?**

**Dudebro: The next class started. She’s not out yet.**

**Ayla said she yelled at her to leave. What do you think we should do bro?**

Adrien read the lines with a growing feeling of dread. _Should I know this? Is this okay?_ He had a feeling, whether it was Chat Noir or Adrien, that Marinette would freak if she knew she'd been hurt that way. Or that she was having a panic attack. Actually, he was kind of irritated that Nino told him at all. It should have been Marinette telling him; maybe when she was finally comfortable or ready to do so. But what was done was done. Nino presented him with a problem and he’d do his best to work it out. Slowly, he typed,

**Have Ayla tell her it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.**

**She and her internet friend know exactly what their relationship is.**

**Everyone in the class just likes watching her get flustered, so it’s**

**pointless to take them seriously. They just want the reaction.**

**It’s totally fine to get upset at them. No one thinks less of her.**

Adrien bit his lip, wondering if that was too forward, thinking she might take it as being told what to think or feel. He may have suspected, after listening to their classroom conversations for months, and _may_ have looked up anxiety disorders a couple months ago. But that didn’t mean he knew what she was thinking. Or that he had a right to tell her what she should think. Ladybug hated that.

**Also, Ayla should apologize if she was babying her.**

**Just because someone has anxiety doesn’t mean you should**

**change the way you interact with them. Marinette can handle herself.**

**Just tell Ayla to ask Marinette what she wants her to do next time**

**because she wants to be there for her. Friends are supposed to be**

**there for you and there is no shame in needing someone.**

With a satisfied nod, he sat back hoping that Ayla and Marinette would sort things out. The two were awesome friends and he’d hate to see them not talking anymore. Their hushed conversations in class were the most entertaining part of his day, even before he learned Marinette was Ladybug.

**Lois Lane: You’re the best! :D Nino forwarded that text to me. I’m going to talk to her.**

**Good luck.** **😊**

 **Lois Lane: Actually, I’m probably just going to read it to her.** **😏 It's that good.**

Oh god, that would just make her hate him even more!

               **No! :O Just pretend it’s you.**

**Seriously, Ayla don’t. :(**

She didn’t text back and he was stuck waiting. Gorilla came and ushered him into his car and he sat back in the plush, looking sadly at the school as they drove past it. He’d be back home and forced to finish another three-hour study block: which meant he would probably waste the time looking up more BDSM tips and tricks. Thank god he knew how to hide that shit. It’d be embarrassing if his father saw his internet history recently. He didn’t put it past him to check. When he first started watching anime, his dad blocked it, saying the cartoons would rot his brain. His mother had gotten furious, comparing it to black listing old movies and books like 1984.

Damn she’d be upset at their life now.

               **Lois Lane: Thank you!!! She accepted my apology! :D**

**Dudebro: Hey man, the girls are happy again.**

**The class also said they were sorry. Besides Chloe, lol.**

**I told you you’ve got some Jedi mind voodoo dude, idk how you do it.**

He smiled, the praise washing away the constant criticism he’d been swept up in. So, what if he was bulky and stupid and lazy? His friends liked him. Ladybug liked him.

“Adrien, get off your phone, I’m hungry hungry hungry! Today was boring, when do we go back to school? This is so lame!” Plagg whinned, tugging on his collar. He rolled his eyes, pulling out a block of camembert and tossing it in the air.

“Ahh, you’re my best friend,” Plagg moaned, embracing the cheese before inhaling it. “Would it kill you to spare just small smackeral more?”

Chat grinned, pulling up the address of store he’d been looking at the past few days. This whole situation had only reminded him how unwilling Ladybug was when asking for help. Maybe she was just as unwilling to end their sessions as he was.

“Oh no, don’t look at me like that!” Plagg protested, crossing his arms. “I’m not helping you with another one of your non-superhero errands. This is abuse of power!”

Both of them knew Plagg didn’t have a choice anyway. But Adrien knew what that felt like. He’d never force him into anything. “How about a whole wheel of camembert?”

Plagg eyes lit up. “And next time it rains you won’t walk back home in it?”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “It’s a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This next arc is taking a different direction. Hope you guys are enjoying it so far. I was thinking I might do a one-shot of Alya and Marinette's fight since this story didn't have the time for it. I'll probably write it in Alya PoV if anyone is interested. 
> 
> I also incorporated texting into the story let me know if it works.
> 
> Next update is going to have to be delayed to next Saturday because I have a big work thing. Sorry :(


	16. Money Bags

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait. Enjoy~

Marinette trudged out of school, already exhausted for the day. Too bad she still had to man the counter at the bakery, plus study, then work on that commission one of the art kids asked for. All she wanted to do was go hide under her covers and cry. Ayla had been hovering, sending her anxious looks as she finally turned on her street and left.

She felt so bad.

_I’m a shitty friend,_ she told herself, remembering Ayla’s hurt expression as Marinette pulled open the bathroom stall, screaming like a madwoman:

_“I’m just crazy, okay?! Everyone knows it, that’s why they all just stare at laugh at me all the time! You treat me like I’m your child and I hate it, okay?! Just leave me alone!”_

_Ayla had looked to the floor, tears gathering in her eyes as she clenched her fists. “Okay. Fine."_

_Then she turned, slowly walking away and Marinette slammed the door, sinking down on the filthy floor, another howl building up in her throat. Small nubs patted her, a soft voice,_

_“Marinette, it’s okay,” Tikki had soothed, rubbing their cheeks together._

_Marinette sobbed, drawing up her knees. “Why did I tell her that?”_

_“Marinette, it’s going to be fine—”_

_“Where’s my akuma, Tikki?” Marinette snapped, horrifying herself. “When is Hawkmoth going to come get me? When is it going to be over? When are we done, Tikki?”_

_Tikki sighed, settled on Marinette’s knee. “You’re stronger than you think. He’s not going to come for you because you have this under control.”_

_The heat in her head dissipated. “I do?”_

_Tikki nodded, a smile widening on her round face. “Sure! Marinette, you’re miraculous!”_

Tikki was right, in her own way, though Marinette was feeling anything but miraculous. She hadn’t managed to get out of the bathroom for two whole periods and missed lunch as well. Ayla, bless her, had at least brought Marinette a sweet bread roll, coming back as hesitant as she was determined.

_“I brought you some food,” Ayla hesitated, knocking on the bathroom door. “I haven’t told anyone you’re hiding in here. They think you went home.”_

_Marinette slowly unlatched the door. Her tears had stopped but just the thought of walking into class and explaining what happened made her immobile. Ayla was standing there, bread in hand, a small smile on her face._

_“Hey, girl, looking good,” she teased, getting Marinette to smile back._

_They stared in silence, both waiting for the other one to move._

_“I’m sorry!” They blurted together. Laughter followed._

Ayla had always surprised her as a friend. The two of them clicked immediately, something she never really had with another girl, and they never really fought about anything. Truth be told, she liked Ayla’s nosiness and wit, it made her feel cared for and she never wanted Ayla to feel she needed to change that about herself. They’d talked it out, sitting out on the banister, sharing that sugary bread, reestablishing what was lost. Ayla had been so kind, letting Marinette know she didn’t think anything less of her, thanking her for explaining the panic attacks. The only person she’d ever talked to about it was her school counselor—her parents were supportive but she was so afraid of disappointing them—so it was very awkward having to explain herself to a friend.

_But she still likes me,_ Marinette thought with a small smile. The rest of the class had welcomed her back like it was nothing; it was only briefly awkward when some of them apologized to her, but they got over it fast. The day passed by just enough that she could convince herself that everything was normal. Now all she had to do was get back home and—

Screams erupted from the streets, and a giant infant parading over the buildings, doing a terrible Godzilla impression, with his fleshy gums crying out a battle roar. _Not again,_ she sighed, hating that Hawkmoth would stoop so low as to target children. She ducked back into an alleyway, quickly transforming, zipping up on top of the school to get a closer look. Most of the baby akumas were easy to deal with—really similar to each other and simple to understand—so hopefully this would be brief.

Chat Noir thudded beside her, catching his breath as he straightened himself.

“Hey, milady, what do you call a group of baby soldiers?”

His shit-eating grin almost made her want to laugh with relief. Still, she managed to remain firm and neutral as she asked,

“I don’t know, Chat. What do you call a group of baby soldiers?”

“An _infant_ ry!”

The word started to sink in her brain and she scowled. Chat, meanwhile, was having a grand old time of things, apparently tired of being serious and strange.

“Ah, poor little tyke. Hopefully we can _pacify_ the situation and _deliver_ her to safety!”

Ladybug stared at him. All this time and she still didn’t know how he could keep such childlike wonder on his face while watching Paris burn. She supposed she did the same thing, keeping that cool distance, despite the terror mounting inside her.

“Fucking hell,” Ladybug muttered, watching the baby dip her foot into the Seine and flipping over boats. She pulled back her yo-yo, surprised when claws lightly circled her wrist.

“Wait,” Chat asked, causing her to turn around. His emerald eyes searched her face, his expression suddenly serious. There was that strange feeling again. Like she should _know_ those eyes.

“What?”

Chat pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her back, settling his cheek on her hair. His body felt warm and sublime, so much so that she almost let herself melt, barely realizing how much she’d been wanting to be held. She just stood there, relaxing her forehead on his shoulder. The moment was brief, and he let go, giving her a soft smile that made her heart flip.

Then he bounded off, leaving her confused as can be.

They quickly captured the akuma, which really turned into playing in the water with a giant baby, which pleased the akuma victim to no end. They returned her to her mother and Ladybug made sure to mention some swim classes Ayla’s sisters were attending. Her earring beeped, letting her know she had just enough time to get home, when Chat stopped her again.

“Can we meet somewhere tonight?”

They hadn’t done patrol in a while; everything had been chaotic the past few weeks. “Sure, wanna meet at the Eiffel Tower? The usual time?”

Chat gave her a superfluous bow. “As you wish, my lady.”

 

\---

 

Chat walked around the tower, enjoying the cool breeze, getting used to the feeling of hefting around a backpack while in costume. He was almost thankful an akuma had shown up today, giving him and Ladybug a reason to connect, and he wondered if that wrong of him. Plagg teased him endlessly, going through his new belongings, getting annoyed when the supplies did not consist of mostly cheese. As usual, Paris was twinkling in the night, the streets still brimming with parties and life.

Ladybug swung down, looking through the dark with the light on her yo-yo. He almost swore he saw a smile before the light blinked out and she sauntered over to him.

“City seems pretty peaceful tonight,” Ladybug greeted, staring out at the Seine. “We can stay and talk for bit if you want.”

Ah. The classroom thing had been easy. It was their spot. Their scene. Meanwhile, the rest of the city belonged to Parie, the expectations of civilians, the superhero battlefield. He shouldn’t have been surprised her mind immediately jumped to patrol.

Still, it would be better to check. “I’m not keeping you up, am I?”

“I wasn’t going to sleep anyway,” Ladybug shrugged, eyes zeroing in on his shoulders. Before he could dissect that remark, she followed up with,

“What’s the bag for? Don’t tell me you’ve become a cat burglar.”

“Hey, if you’ll be my Bonnie, I’ll be your Clyde,” he suggested, enjoying her scowl. Instead of pressing for information, she surprised him,

“You look better.”

Chat laughed it off. “I know, the darkness makes me look rugged and mysterious.”

“I meant your mood.”

His feet felt planted in the ground, her voice capturing him. Adrien swallowed, looking away at the view again, trying to figure out another joke or something.

She was firm, her posture confident. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Bugaboo, you know you are the epitome of—”

“Chat.”

His face was so tight it hurt. Sure, his life had been hell the past few days, but what right did he have to complain about it? That was just part of being an Agreste. Plus, she was going through her own struggles right now, he couldn’t burden her like this. “I’m fine.”

Ladybug was quiet for a while. “Okay, I’ll play. What’s in the bag?”

“Right!” He chirped pulling the bag off his back. He crouched to the ground, lighting up a flashlight so she could see the contents. Thankfully, she joined him there, letting the previous subject slide away into the shadows. Her eyes widened as he opened the zipper.

“Are those … cell phones?”

“Yeah! I thought it might be good for us to have a way to contact each other outside of our costumes. At first, I was thinking we could just text but then someone could track it or whatever and then I thought we could use an anonymous chatting service, but again, our IP would still be traceable and the texts would be accessible through our phones. So! I thought, why not just change the phones?”

“Uh huh …” Ladybug uttered, giving him a blank stare. It wasn’t exactly what he was hoping for, so he pressed on, trying to deliver more good news.

“Yeah, so we can use a private messenger I installed on them and contact each other. We can even make calls; I was able to get private SIM cards and put them under a fake name. Just, uh, don’t put any identifying information on the phone. We can call each other code names; probably come up with codes for akuma and things like that as well—"

“Won’t it be strange carrying around two different phones?”

Chat smiled, tail flicking, glad she was thinking this through. “Exactly, we’ll set up times we know for sure we can use them so no one else will see them.”

“This sounds illegal. And expensive.”

“W-well, we’re vigilantes and that’s not technically legal—”

“We work with the police, Chat. They aren't equipped to deal with akumas. It’s a special case.”

“This is also a special case,” he floundered, losing his momentum with her growing disapproval. He’d thought she’d be enthusiastic. This was a great solution to their problems.

“What else is in there?”

“Oh, uh, I thought since you, well …” His whole face flushed pink. Maybe Plagg had been right, maybe this was totally stupid. Ladybug stared at him, her hand reaching into the bag to pull out the blindfold, cuffs, leash, and collar he’d purchased at an adult store with a fake ID and cheap face mask. Either the clerk hadn’t noticed or hadn’t cared that he was underaged. He was actually proud he managed to pull it off. One by one, she laid them out on the floor, her expression unreadable as she traced the black matching leather, her fingers lingering on the collar. It had round stubs encircling it and three shiny metal loops, two of which jutted from the sides.  

_Does she like it?_ He hoped she liked it.

At least she looked curious. “Did you buy all this?”

Of course, she’d worry about it being traced. “Don’t worry it was in cash. My cash.”

Her lips pursed. “Chat this is nappa leather, it’s expensive.”

It was soft and beautiful and breathed almost like a second skin. They didn’t need anything less. “Quite observant of you, my lady. Do you like it?”

“How much did you pay for this?”

Oh, that intense tone she used with commands was creeping in. _Are we going to— here?!_ Chat bit his lip, wondering what would happen if someone snuck up here like them or used a telescope or even a camera on a news helicopter. Then he wondered how much he really cared.

“It’s no big deal LB,” he waved a hand away. “I wanted to buy it.”

“Chat, I know you have a job but you should really use your money for more practical things,” she said sternly, crossing her arms. “Otherwise, you’re doing all that work for nothing.”

Right. Ladybug had no idea he was an heir to a multi-million conglomerate. But how did he explain that without her catching wind of his identity? Plus, if her interactions with Adrien and Chloe were any indication, she really disliked rich people. “Uh, actually the job is more of a hobby. A, uh, talent I suppose. I have tons of money. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Doubt laced her tone. “I guess I just have to believe you on that.”

“Don’t worry, bugaboo, I’m basically Batman,” he joked, flexing. Her eyes trailed back down to the leather implements, getting that intense session look again. It made sense. People’s eyes would light up when they realized just who he was. Not because they cared about him but they knew just how much money followed that name. How much fame. Even if she didn’t like to admit it, surely Marinette desired things her parents couldn’t afford. Things he could totally get her.

“In fact, I have too much money,” he suggested, leaning back on his arms, stretching his back. “If you really wanted to, you could just force me and I’ll buy you whatever you want.”

She sauntered closer to him, crawling on all fours, her eyes getting that lustful shade to them and he knew he’d said the right thing. She grabbed his bell, leaned into his ear, and whispered,

“Do I look like some whore, chaton?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a weird chapter, but it's going somewhere, I swear. Alya is a 10/10 friend, I'm working on the companion piece to fill in the holes.
> 
> And predictions on what will happen next? :>
> 
> Also, no spoilers for those who haven't seen the new Ladybug episode but lord I never have to worry about writing Marinette too creepy again. Actually, matched my Adrien pretty well too. Uncanny.


	17. Session Rules

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ask and ye shall receive. 
> 
> Warning: Consent and Shit

Ladybug was seething. First of all, how dare he suddenly start acting normal after making her worried sick! Was this what he had been up to the last few days? Why not discuss it with her, then? God, she hated being coerced and yet here he was handing her a fistful of presents that basically translated to: “ _I only want to talk to you because I want something from you_ ”. Which, she supposed, was better than shutting down and shutting her out but was she really that hard to talk to?

Plus, he had the gall to lie to her about his financial circumstances. If he was so overflowing with cash, how come he’d never mentioned it before? With all the different approaches he tried with flirting, it was impossible to think that using money to do something extravagant never came up. Well, except the flowers, but he'd just been desperate at that point. She couldn't believe easily he could throw away money! He was teenager, god damn it; he could use this money for college or his family or himself!

Plus! Plus … it was _her_ job. She was the dom! The supplies and the location and the session should be her decisions. How else could she possibly surprise and thrill him if he knew everything? Where was the fun in that? God damn it, she’d already written out some new ideas in a special notebook in her lockbox she bought just for them! She’d worked really hard on that mask and ears for him; had started making him some other surprises. Did he … didn’t he like them?

Chat was staring up at her, his mouth gaping, his breaths staggered as she waited for a response, as she pulled his collar up to arch his neck.

“Wh-why would you say that? Of course, I don’t think about you that way!”

“Oh sure,” she sneered, releasing him as she balanced back on her knees. “I have tons of money babe, I’ll buy you whatever you want babe, just perform sex acts for me, babe!”

“It…it does sound bad when you put it that way,” he admitted, drawing up his knees. “Babe such a toolish nickname, at least call yourself bugaboo, it's super cute."

_Nitpicky, goddamned wordsmith!_ “That’s not the point!”

“I know it’s not,” he sighed, rubbing the back of his head, ears going flat with dejection. “I was just trying to … I thought you’d be excited.”

Ladybug took a really deep breath. It wasn’t supposed to be like this! She was tired of yelling at him. _Why am I always so angry?_ She’d already hurt Alya’s feelings today. Sure, they’d made up but she’d vowed to never do it again and yet here she was about to blow another gasket. Why did she have to be so neurotic?

_What would Adrien do?_  Adrien was the calmest person she knew. He’d never gotten upset, not even when his father was unfair, not even when Chloe or Lila started bothering him, not even when fans interrupted him in public. How the hell was he so peaceful all the time?

She’d been quiet too long. Chat was biting his lip, looking ready to cry.

“I’m sorry, Ladybug,” he ducked his head down. Her heart burned and not in that good endorphin overkill sort of way, but a sharp ache. _What happened to him?_ Yeah, she wasn’t proud to admit it but she’d said worse to him and he’d taken it fine. Yet, just a bit of yelling and he looked ready to fall apart. Somehow, she was getting the feeling that none of this was about her in the first place.

Ladybug sat down on her haunches, examining her new adversary.

“Tell me what you were thinking when you bought them.”

Chat froze, still not lifting his head to look at her. “It doesn’t matter.”

“That’s an order, Chaton.”

He didn’t answer, which was probably a sign she really had gone too far. Whatever she did last time, he certainly needed enough space to be able to come back with this crazy solution. Then she immediately shot him down, letting her head get the best of her, taking out all her worries on him. “Look, I’m sorry for yelling at you. I can just go if—”

His face shot up, burning sincerity glittering with tears. “Wait!”

Thinking better, he lowered his head, “please.”

“Okay,” she answered, not knowing what else to say. _Why is he so upset about that? He’s the one that doesn’t want to talk; what are we supposed to do then?_ He should be allowed to refuse orders, it made sense, she wouldn’t want to be forced to do things either. But the idea was finding ones he _didn’t_ want to refuse. That was the game.

“So ... let me guess, you walked right into a naughty store with a giant pile of cash,” Ladybug drawled, emphasizing the right words. “I suppose I’m a little impressed.”

One of Chat’s ears perked up. “What makes you say that?”

Ladybug closed her eyes, imagining herself—him—staring at a cashier, maybe some college kid with heavy makeup, piercings, and a dead expression, the warm air of each breath bouncing back behind the mask as she tried to lie about her age. The adrenaline of almost getting caught, that sudden building anxiety that someone might recognize her, maybe even a bit of excitement? Was it a similar feeling when he looked up with anticipation, waiting for her to touch him? She supposed they never really sat down and talked about why they liked doing this but maybe she could kind of understand that feeling he was chasing. A little bit anyway.

“The way you talked about it earlier you were almost acting like you were doing me a favor. But that’s not the case, is it, Chaton? You’re actually that much of a fucking pervert.”

Chat flinched as if slapped, head still bowed.

“Gosh, I bet you looked at every option, acting like a little rich boy ordering everyone around until you got all your little toys just right,” she accused, picking up the leash and stretching the material. Heat flooded her senses as she felt the give, the weight of it. “Mm, hiding these in your bedroom, hoping no one found them, touching them when you were alone … I bet you tried them, didn’t you?”

His voice was a whisper. “I didn’t.”

She pulled the leather leash tight between her fists, enjoying the brisk sound. “It was just too much wasn’t it? I bet you were turned on just looking at them. Sensitive Chaton.”

_Am I doing this right?_ Doubt mixed into lust, worry with passion, her stomach pooling. It would be better if they could just _talk_ but it seemed like that was getting harder and harder lately. There was more at stake and she had no idea what was going on in his head. There had to be some way to break down that barrier, to get him to spill everything to her.

“I wonder if you … “ Fuck, should she even be saying this? Did he like being talked down to like this? “If you had t-trouble making it home. Bet your d-dick was practically throbbing with cum. How embarrassing, having to walk out of the store like that. Did you even get your pants off before you came?”

He didn’t reply and that scared her too.

“Well? Answer the question Chat.”

A soft mumble was her only reply. She walked her knees closer, her thighs almost touching his legs, the leash caressing him. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

“I walked in, found what I was looking for, and left. They have a website with tons of good reviews. I already had a plan before I went in,” he answered, meeting her gaze.

“Cautious kitty,” she praised, feeling almost giddy, excited by his attention,  his participation.

"I stuffed everything in the bag and went home,” he added, looking cavalier, looking like Chat. “Didn’t open it until now. That’s about it. You aren’t disappointed, are you?”

“Why would I be disappointed?” She played, voice lowering as she moved closer to his face. Chat surprised her by grinning,

“Because, bugaboo, you _like_ that I’m a pervert.”

Ladybug felt her whole face flush red. Had his voice always been smooth as velvet?

“You got quiet,” he teased, leaning on one hand. “You know, I may have gotten a bit nervous that they would I.D. me but no one tried. Maybe I should go in as Chat Noir next time?”

He went in civilian form? As a high schooler? “Are you crazy?”

“Crazy about you,” he grinned, taking the opportunity. She rolled her eyes. Sometimes he made absolutely no sense to her. There he was, throwing caution out the window, almost exposing himself and getting arrested meanwhile one cross word from her and he was practically a puddle. How would she ever find his limits when he buoyed back and forth between everything?

Chat continued, unaware of her internal dilemma. “I did tell them about my girlfriend though. They asked who I was gonna use it on and you know what I said?”

_Please tell me he wasn’t dumb enough to use my name._ Maybe it was the altitude but she felt light-headed, even he was breathing quicker breaths. “What did you say?”

Chat took way to long too long to answer, swallowing nervously. It drove her crazy. Had he mentioned her name? Or did he talk about Ladybug? His face was flushed, looking almost vulnerable again, even as his lips were twitching with a smirk, “My girlfriend likes to cook so she’s making me a _sub_.”

Ladybug pushed his chest, pissed that she fell for it. “Oh my god, Chat, you are so-so-!”

“Chat got your tongue?” He dared, then had the gall to look to the side, fingers touching his lips. “Well, not yet.”

Red seethed into her vision. “God, you’re such a dick! Why do I even bother!”

“You’re just so cute when your mad,” he said, echoing all the fucking assholes in her past with the phrase she hated more than anything else in this world. “It’s a _dick_ ting.”

_Fucking piece of shit won’t be laughing when I throw his ass off this tower,_ her thoughts rang, her rage rising, her eyes just barely catching him wince between smiles, his eyes more sunken than she remembered. Chat wasn’t a misogynist, not even accidentally. “You’re doing it on purpose.”

Chat pouted. “Doing what?”

Oh, he was good. Ladybug remembered her early frustrations, trying to balance the responsibility of being a superhero and leading the dumb reckless boy around, only to actually listen to him and realize he wasn’t dumb at all. In fact, he was exceedingly clever, spouting off facts faster than a SAT prep student at trivia night, his brain quickly formulating angles and pressure for traps like a god damned engineer. The jokes were something she learned to live with. A way for him to keep the mood and normalcy in their fucked-up lives.

Maybe, deep down, she liked them. Yeah, they were fucking dumb but it was like a careful reminder: _We’re okay. This isn’t a big deal. This is so easy._

It hadn’t struck her that maybe he was playing to her insecurities as well.

“I thought I already told you,” she glowered, breathing in through her nose, willing her rage to die down. “You don’t get to manipulate me or coerce me.”

He tried to stand up. “Bugaboo, I didn’t—”

“Nuh-uh, nope, on your knees,” she snapped, pointing a finger at him. “You think you can just show up with your little toys and your jabs and trick me into getting angry and lashing out at you. You want a session? Then you better beg like the submissive you’re supposed to be.”

Chat curled over his knees, forehead almost touching the floor. “Yes, my lady.”

Ahhh, there it was.

 

\---

 

Chat trembled on the ground, trying to bite back the grin threatening to split his face in half. _I’m in trouble now,_ he reaffirmed, feeling her toes jab against his cheek, sliding down his neck, lifting up his chin to a painful angle. God, her legs were so long and toned and the moonlight bounced off her hair—

“First of all, I’m not your girlfriend.”

Her foot dropped him, his nose almost slamming against metal.

“Secondly, it’s about time we established some more rules. What was the first one?”

His answer was swift. “Only doing things we like. Or might like.”

Ladybug hummed in approval, walking around him. “The second rule?”

“Our safe words. Red, yellow, green.”

“Maybe try actually using some of them if you remember,” Ladybug snarked, surprising him with her irritation. It wasn't like she'd done anything incredibly painful or out of line. 

He wondered how much she’d studied. “You can use them too.”

Her foot pressed down on his back, lightly testing him, and damn he wished he actually tried to kiss it when he had the opportunity. _Would she like that?_ He wondered, enjoying the meaning more than the action. He wanted her to know he was hers, that she could trust him to always be that.

“I don’t need them.” Her weight was firm, imprinting even. He’d ignore it. For now.

“Third rule?”

“Every time I do something bad, you’ll punish me.” _Like now,_ he thought gleefully, even though the actual crime wasn’t clear to him. It reminded him of something Master Fu had told him one day, when he was asking him why 吹毛求疵 literally meant blow hair on fur when it simply translated to nitpick. Fu had chuckled, saying:  _“Exactly. You ask questions to overcomplicate simple and good things instead of just accepting them as they are. Fate can be fickle, for better or worse, so just accept when it comes. There’s nothing wrong with finding happiness Adrien.”_

“And I’ll reward you when you do good,” she added, lifting up her foot, stroking down his spine with her giant toe. She stopped just at his tail belt, foot hovering. “I think that was all of them so far.”

“Leave Marinette out of this,” he uttered, not bothering to hide the unhappiness in his voice. “You made that one crystal clear multiple times already.”

The side of her foot slapped his ass, a soft thump, hardly noteworthy. “Then don’t do it!”

“What, I can’t even say your name now?”

This time was harder, enough for him to suck his breath in. “Fine, okay, LB.”

“That’s just a given,” she announced, walking back in front of him. “So, we won’t count it as a rule. Rule number 4 is that I’m the one that sets up our sessions. That means materials, location, time, everything, understand? I’ll make an exception today, but this won’t be happening again.”

His chest did a funky flip at the word _session_ , as if hearing that mere vocalization for everything between them was affirming something. Because if it had a name, it was real, wasn’t it? Then he actually focused on what she was saying.  _Oh. Ohhhhhh._ He hadn’t realized that was important to her, but of course it was. Ladybug always came up with the plans in battle, why should this be any different?

He felt so guilty, “I’m so sorry.”

“Sure, you are,” she snorted. “You got exactly what you wanted anyway. Here you are, taking orders on top of the Eiffel fucking Tower. You can be so annoying, you know that?"

That sent a thrill up his spine. Her words were harsh but it was almost like ... like she was praising him. "But even if you’re pissing me off, I still think you deserve a say in it. So, Rule 5 is that you need to ask me for a session. I’ll even allow you to ask for specific acts, though whether or not I’ll follow through is entirely up to me.”

_Holy shit, this is too good to be true!_ “Thank you so much, my lady.”

“Geez, you’re so excited you’re shaking,” Ladybug teased, squatting in front of him. He almost looked up, tempted to see her thighs parted, but wouldn’t dare. Even better than that quick peek, she started stroking his hair, her fingers lingering and scratching and feeling so amazing that he got harder.

“We can’t be too obvious though,” she summarized, still absentmindedly petting him. “So, even though I think you’re crazy, we’ll use your secret agent phones, okay? You can tell me or text me, “I want a session” and we’ll schedule a time and I’ll reach out to you.”

Chat struggled to breathe; his chest so full of happiness that it almost hurt. He didn’t dare look up, didn’t want her to see him crying again, and didn’t even know how to express what this meant to him. She just lingered there, waiting for some reaction. So, he kissed the top of her foot.

“As you wish, my lady.”

Ladybug reached for his face, lifting up both his cheeks so that she could stare at him. She looked gorgeous, the moonlight tracing her silhouette and her soft expression more relaxed than he'd seen in a long time. He felt immediately felt relaxed with her.

“Chat,” she murmured, thumb stroking his cheek. “What do you want?”

“I want you to own me,” he breathed, letting the tears fall anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, guys I like barely got home and didn't really have much time to edit this because I didn't want you guys missing another Wednesday. So yeah, sorry for the super rough writing guys. That being said, I hope this chapter was worth it!
> 
> There's a lot going on in the background and this arc is super rushed but I swear it's intentional. A bit of that ebb and flow I've been making you all suffer. Let me know your thoughts!


	18. Suspension Effect

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Danger Imminent and brief suicidal ideation.

Ladybug stroked Chat’s face, feeling the strangest sense of proprietary satisfaction. He was submitting to her, he always did, but _this_ felt different somehow. It was like, for the first time ever, she actually held him, claimed him, and holy shit he was letting her and that felt amazing. Her hand searched the floor for the leash while she distracted him with a light tap on his bell.

“I don’t think a collar will fit over your costume,” she uttered, tugging him forward by the bell, fingers seizing the loop that branched to his zipper. His eyes looked down, mouth opening with a soft breath of surprise. “Good thing you always dress like a pervert.”

The leash clicked on almost too easily. She stood up, pulling the cord around enough to angle his head up, the bell pressing right against his Adam’s apple.

“You like it though,” he reiterated, balancing on his knees to follow her.

“You know, cats actually hate leashes. They like to be free,” she said thoughtfully, taking a step back. He moved one step with his knee, not once looking away from her. “Seems counter-intuitive.”

Chat just smiled at her; his eyes almost glowing in adoration. “Cats are just really selective. Despite all the stereotypes, cats can be very loyal and trainable. But a cat has to respect their owner.”

How much of this was an info dump and how much of it was a request? “Hm, I suppose this means I can’t call you a stray any more, can I?”

“You mean it?” He beamed. Ladybug bit her lip, intimidated.  This was moving too fast, too weird. Maybe she should have walked away, taken some time to think things through, but then she remembered that look of dejection and anxiety on his expression. She yanked on the collar, pulling him forward, watching him throw his hands on the ground to catch himself. It seemed like he  _wanted_ her to take his control and yet he never quite seemed to let it go. 

_The leash isn’t enough,_ she decided, staring at the other implements.

“Depends. I have a busy life; I don’t have time for a pet. You can’t live at my house.”

Chat exhaled, a flash of something in his reflection as he muttered, “Baby steps.”

Which was oddly endearing. In a frustrating sort of way. She had him on the floor, with a leash, god damn it, how was he still pushing her around? “Put your arms behind your back.”

Chat obeyed, that damned smirk still on his face. She waltzed in front of him, movements slow as she picked up the cuffs and moved behind him. His breath quickened. Then she knelt, feeling a strange flip in her heart when she saw he’d stacked his forearms on top of each other instead of locking his wrists, placing himself in the same position she had given him last time. Shaking herself from the distraction, she loosened the clasps on the cuffs, trying to figure out how they worked. He said nothing, kneeling there in the dark, waiting for her.

Finally, she grabbed his hand hand, forcing his fingers together so she could fit it through the cuff. Then she clicked them into place, noting that, yes indeed, they were custom fitted. _Did he order them online and pick them up or did they size him in the store?_ The idea of someone intimately touching him, drawing that flexible measuring tape around his neck sat ill with her. That was something  _she_ wanted to do.

“These fit well,” she commented, trying extra hard to keep her tone neutral.

“They should,” he snorted, mystifying her. She pulled the chain through the loops in-laid on the wrists, trying to figure out how to make it tighter. The two pieces weren’t flexible like rope was, but they were too short to wrap around his arms. _Why are they like that?_ It irked her that she had to sit there and think about it, wasting time and making things more awkward.

Finally, she settled for tying the chains together in a crude knot between his wrists. It looked bulky and ugly, totally different from the black ribbon she’d used last time.

“Those are for attaching to the collar,” he finally spoke up. “You attach them through the side loops and it forces your arms to bend up and your hands to hang by your shoulders.”

Ladybug was able to get a clear image in her head, imagining the pose was similar to old wooden medieval hand cuffs. But it didn’t fit here. Maybe if she spread him out on a bed, bare against silk sheets, his ankles cuffed to the bed posts—

_Woaaah,_ she stopped herself there. Imagining her in her bed, naked save leather and chain, was _not_ a way to stay focused. _Plus, that’s like a bit … and anyway, we aren’t…_

She blamed it on all the porn.

Chat, of course, was smug. “Got you thinking about it, didn’t I?”

“Nah, I was thinking about how horny you have to be to buy a custom leather set for yourself. Kind of reeks of desperation, Chaton.” God, she was proud of that quick comeback.

“I _gift_ my best,” he answered, testing his arm movement without her even having to ask. Luckily, they held firm, with only about a couple inches of give. “I got them for you, my lady.”

_Oh, here we go again._ Ladybug stood up, hands on her hips as she circled around him, contemplating. “Why is it so hard for you to admit you wanted them for yourself?”

He shook his head, barely biting back a laugh. “You caught me, LB. I want this.”

“Stand up,” she ordered, yanking on the collar. “We’re going for a walk.”

Chat looked bemused as he examined the twinkling sky-line. “Where to?”

Ladybug tugged the lead, pulling him closer as she walked toward him, watching him stumble without his arms to balance. They ebbed and flowed, like a strange dance, Chat stumbling into whatever pace she gave him. Yet he didn’t show any discomfort, not even as she stepped right into his personal space. That was when her leg brushed against it.

“Of course,” she deadpanned, trying not to make a big deal. Because it was something that was going to keep happening, no need to give him a big ego or anything. Plus, last time she’d been down on her knees, stroking and sucking, and— _Fuck, stop thinking about his erection._

“Don’t tell me I’m becoming too pre _dick_ table.”

_Fuck, he noticed._ “Come on, tomcat.”

 

\---

 

Chat died and went to heaven. Well, the pervy version of it. Ladybug was playing with him, willingly, even taking charge of the game and this wasn’t going to be the last time. She gave him rules. She said she’d contact him. She said he could ask her whenever he wanted! _Thank goodness I had the courage to do this,_ he thought again and again. It made the last week of hell almost worth it. 

The wind picked up and he shivered, his whole body feeling electric. It was a little hard to walk, especially because she had a brisk pace, and she kept randomly tugging him. They had bound his arms before and he’d quickly learned how defenseless it made him. But he hadn’t realized how much it messed with his ability to walk. Plus, the leather tightly squeezed his dick with each step, sending slow waves of pleasure up his spine. It was exciting, emboldening, erotic, and yet he still felt like he was waiting for something more.

“Maybe we should try this on the street,” Ladybug said to herself. “The red-light district is probably still crowded. We might even seem normal there.”

Oh wow, to be dragged around by Ladybug where everyone could see that he was hers and she was super into it sounded awesome. It was a shame they were obviously underaged. And that they were Paris’s most recognizable superheroes. Plus, there was something erotic about her secretiveness, knowing that something rested between them that no one else could begin to access or understand.

“Maybe someday,” he agreed. She walked closer to the edge and his heart spiked. The floor beneath them was steady, he knew that, and even if he fell, she’d definitely catch him with her yo-yo. But seeing the fall, imagining the rush of air, then the crash, filled him with a strange exhilaration. It terrified him.

But not as much as, “You need to tell me what happened.”

“Chat, you basically avoided me for a week,” Ladybug snapped, turning to face him. “You’ve been trying to distract me. That’s the real reason you bought everything, isn’t it?”

His voice came out rough. “You’re still asking about that, I said I’m sorry, didn’t I?”

Ladybug stood on her tip toes, her nose almost touching his. “Was it because I forced you to cum even thought you asked me to stop?”            

“Wh-wh,” his face heated and he took half a step back. “No, definitely not!”

“So, did you actually like it or not?”

Was she seriously asking him if he liked his first blowjob? “Yes! Geez, bugaboo.”

“Was it because I asked you to de-transform?” Her volume was increasing, he voice becoming more frantic as she opened the latch to her mind. “Were you worried about me discovering your identity? Did I make you uncomfortable by moving too fast? Was it because of what happened with the akuma? Or something else? Was I too mean? Why were you crying?”

The back of his heel met with air and he lurched forward, vertigo hitting him. Ladybug’s eyes widened as she pulled his collar, balancing him on his toes. She let out a rush of breath and his heart thudded in his chest. All she had to do was let go and…

He couldn’t even catch himself or use his baton. There was another level sticking out under them by the time she reached him it’d probably be too late. He could actually die here, away from it all.

“Did something happen at home, Chat?” Her voice lowered and her grip tightened. His head swam as he tried to escape and he realized she wouldn’t be able to pull him up. But the words were catching up in his throat, feeling more constrictive than ropes or collars, and as he looked in her eyes he realized that would be the last sight she saw of him before he plummeted.

“R-red,” he gasped, holding himself desperately still.

 

\---

 

Marinette yanked him towards her, throwing him down on the floor, tears, panic, and a small scream escaping her lips. The leash tangled and she fell, landing on him, catching herself on him.

“Oh my god, oh my god,” she panicked, her hands running up and down his face, his chest, his frantically beating heart, the breaths teetering from his lips. “Are you okay? Can you breathe? I could have killed you! Oh, my fucking god, Chat I almost killed you!”

“Breathe,” he uttered calmly, shocking her.

“DON’TTELLMETOBREATHEYOUALMOSTDIEDYOUASSHOLE!”

She shook his shoulders, sobs wracking from her chest. “This is why I didn’t want to be your dom, Chat! Oh my god! What the fuck are we doing?!”

“Mari, calm down,” he whispered, his arms squirming under them. God, that hurt. No one called her Mari, not since grade school, but he said it so naturally, like they were totally normal friends or something. Deep down that’s how he actually saw them. And to think she’d been so careless with him, that she almost—

“I can’t do it Chat,” she cried, cupping her eyes in her hands. “Fuck, I can barely deal with Ladybug or school or friends or liking boys and this is just too goddamn much, Chat! There's so much to keep track of and I can’t even take care of myself. I’m a nervous wreck! How am I supposed to take care of you? I can’t even—"

He leaned up and bit her nose, shutting her up. She blinked.

“Marinette, listen to me,” he said, curling up to a sitting position, catching her in his lap. “I’m fine. I didn’t fall. It was my fault for walking to close to the edge and not saying anything. It was dark and we couldn’t see it. We’re going to make mistakes sometimes, there’s no way we can know everything. But now we know, dangling each other off buildings is probably a bad idea.”

His voice was smooth. Velvety. Different. “Sound good?”

She nodded, wiping away her tears.

“For the record, I think you’re doing great,” he continued, giving her a reassuring smile. “I know I don’t know much about BDSM but I like doing it with you and if I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d been practicing for months. On top of that you save Paris practically every day, all while leading the class and helping your family. You’re always there for everyone when they need you and never ask for anything back. I said it before, and I’ll say it again, I’m so, so glad you’re Ladybug, Marinette.”

The tears started gathering again. There was no way that was her, it was just an idealized version of her life. A fantasy he wanted that she could never measure up to.

“I know I’m,” he trailed off, his eyes going hard. “Difficult. I shouldn’t have asked you to do this today, not after that happened at school. I just…”

Her emotions stirred. She was embarrassed that he knew about the panic attack, wondering how far it spread at the school. If he purposefully kept tabs on her or if the whole student body talked behind her back. Then there was flattery. He knew she had a freak out and still trusted her to be his dom. His loyalty to her was faultless, something she was so, so thankful for.

Chat was still struggling, his brow furrowed. “I just really _needed_ , I mean, I wanted…”

She had no idea what he meant by difficult. As carefree and self-serving as he pretended to be, she knew he was constantly sacrificing something in his mind. It was why he kept his opinions to himself, why he went with her whims, why he was so, so easy to work with. Even after expressing interest in BDSM, he’d never outright asked her for it, just waited for her to lead him. She’d seen his actions today as pushiness and selfishness, but was there anything wrong with that?

_Yes,_ she concluded, watching him swallow nervously, shutting up again. If he was asking for something, fully knowing it would inconvenience her, then he must be more desperate than she thought. The sessions were a great way for her unwind; every time she played with him all her anxiety and stress seemed to melt away. But what did it do for him?

What was he so desperately running from?

“Maybe we can try again,” she whispered, placing a hand on his chest. “Would you like that?”

Chat nodded, his eyes watering. “Are you sure?"

"I'll be fine," Ladybug assured, trying to be the calm that he needed. "Do you want to?"

"Please."

It was so weird, trying to break down the steps of what she was going to do to him. Especially since she didn’t have time to plan this, didn’t even know if it would work.

“I want you to lay down with your head hanging off the edge. Then I’m going to sit on top of you to make sure you don’t fall. That way we can still play with vertigo. What do you think?”

Chat leaned forward, resting his head on her shoulder, “Let’s try it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot to break down in this chapter. Hopefully, reaching the pinnacle of this arc made the last two chapters more sensible. Chapter title is super intentional. 
> 
>  
> 
> Man, I hate my spoiler-y warnings but I also don't to hurt anyone. Sorry guys.


	19. Trust Fall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: ♨️♨️♨️

The immediate rush assaulted him, dizzying and palpable, as his back pressed down on metal, his head floating on air. Ladybug pulled on the leash, keeping his neck up enough for him to watch her swing her leg over him, straddling his chest. Her expression was worried as her hands roved his body.

“Is this comfortable?”

His back was pressing into his arms, doubtless growing a giant impression where she had balled up the chains on his wrist, and his neck and shoulders were already stiff. “Not really.”

Ladybug huffed. “You know what I meant. Are we good? Or should we stop?”

“Everything’s green, my lady.”

“How’s your head?”

“A bit _heady_.”

Ladybug ignored him, pressing on. “If I ask you something and you take too long to respond, I’m pulling you back up, okay? Don’t go quiet on me right now.”

“Aw, you actually just wanna hear my jokes, don’t you, bugaboo?”

“If you aren’t going to be serious, we’re stopping right now.”

Damn. He suspected she was catching on to the fact that she could use that as a threat against him. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so eager. “What do we do now?”

“You’re going to tell me what happened between the last session and this one,” she ordered, wasting no time. “I thought you actually liked it. Didn’t you?”

“It was really good,” he affirmed. Then, taking the opportunity, “Did you like it?”

God, he could just imagine that adorable blush sprinkling across her nose. “Focus, Chat. We're talking about you.”

“I was worried you didn’t,” he blurted, nervous, hoping she’d sense he wanted that reassurance just as much as she did. “So, I got nervous.”

“What made you think I didn’t like it?” She prodded instead. Her tone was laced with ire. That was the complication, he supposed, that push and pull. The seductive energy of her passion was equally terrifying. At what point would she toss up her hands and be done with him? How long would it take her to realize just how pathetic he was?

 _But if I don’t say anything, she’ll stop._  “I don’t know.”

“Was it the part where I was fucking you with my eyes?”

Chat shuddered, remembering that liquid look as her blue eyes trailed down his chest.

“Or the part where I started sucking your dick?”

His head swam, the wind echoing in the tower arches below, metal creaking, his arms cramping from the amount of pressure she put on him, his neck stiff from her hold on the leash. But even through all of that, his body could still remember the wet pressure of her lips, the slight brush of teeth. At first, he’d been grateful to be pulled out of school again, knowing that no amount of cold showers could override the intense release of that rainy day.

“I didn’t mean to, you know,” she drawled, adjusting her pert ass on his chest, drawing his gaze to the shadow of her navel. “I just wanted to look. You could call it curiosity.”

“Killed the chat, you know,” he wheezed, surprise by how airy his voice had become.

 Ladybug gave his collar a brusque tug. “That’s not funny Chat.”

“Too soon?” He grimaced, realizing where her mind went. Wanting to get away from that, he bravely added, “What made you do it then? I-if you just meant to look.”

Ladybug’s chest shuddered, her perky breasts shaking with the movement. God, what a view.

“I couldn’t help it. You were so fucking hot it made me wet.”

 _Wait, what?_ Chat blinked. 

“I guess you were a little … preoccupied,” Ladybug uttered, drawing a finger down her clavicle, following the trail to her stomach. “So, you didn’t notice…”

Those fingers slid between her legs, wedged between her tight suit and his chest. _Oh my god._ They stroked, forward, then back, and he had to crane his neck to watch. To think that she did that to herself, while bringing him to orgasm had him breathless. That she could be so needy…for him…

She pulled her fingers out, stroking up his chest instead, as it wracked with breaths.

“Yell…ow…” he tried to breath out. Ladybug stiffened, balancing on her knees to hover over him, lifting his head as she pulled him up over the edge. That hand, those fingers, were cradling his head as she lowered it to the floor, her eyes were wide with worry.

“Can you breathe?” She asked, palm splayed above his erratic heart. “Are you okay?”

“Bugaboo,” he begged, feeling his lungs expand again. “Can I touch you? Please?”

 

\--- 

 

Chat’s eyes were dark with desire, his chest panting breaths, his erection straining against leather. He lay underneath her on the metal, safe and secure, and way more aroused than he ought to be. She’d intended to shock him, maybe embarrass him, not send him over the edge. He looked so turned on the breeze might set him off. The idea enraptured her, so much so that she wondered if he felt her growing wet between their suits before she’d moved off him .

Instinct told her to ride him, but she forced herself to focus.

“You beg so sweetly,” Ladybug teased, brushing his bangs off his face as she balanced her weight on her elbows. “But you’re forgetting something very important, Chaton.”

Were his pupils dilating? “What?”

“You never answered my question: What happened between the last session and this one?”

Because this session was for _him_. She wasn’t going to get distracted by her own pleasure.

“Please, bugaboo.”

“Did it take you this long to realize this is an interrogation?” Ladybug teased, shaking with the thrill. “I won’t give you anything until you tell me what I want to hear.”

“Fuck,” he uttered, eyes blown.

She flicked his nose. “Tick-tock, Chat. I’ve got a busy schedule tomorrow.”

“It’s home stuff,” he managed, eyes cinching shut. “We can’t talk about it.”

“I suppose I can always take a nice hot shower instead,” Ladybug continued, slowing her words as she moved her face closer to his. “Or cuddle up with a very firm body pillow.”

He let out a strong exhalation of air, turning his face away from her. _Push him more,_ she decided, letting her breaths dance along the shell of his ear.

“That’s what I had to do last time.”

His voice came out high, almost reedy. “Oh god.”

 _This is going to be so humiliating,_ she thought, _but so fucking worth it._ “You’ll never guess who I was pretending to grind on top of.”

Just because she could, she lowered her pelvis against his. The feeling was so amazing she shuddered, forgetting her plan to immediately pull back. Neither of them moved beyond their trembling, getting lost in that feeling of competition.

“Try to stay focused Chat,” she managed, her voice like the air. “The last session went great; we both liked it. But something happened and you almost ghosted me.”

“I, I can’t,” he murmured, trying to shift away from her. The movement sent a bolt of pleasure through her and she bit down a moan. “Please…”

Lifting away from him was the hardest thing she’d ever done. With a deep breath, she crawled back up on her knees, balancing above him. He looked utterly wrecked below her, tied up and twitching, desperate for any sort of touch. She wondered far that desperation could go. “You ever heard of neglect play?”

“I don’t want to do that,” he uttered, voice low. "Please, don't do that."

Her fingers tugged on his leash. “Why not?”

He whimpered but refused to say more.

“Some people say the desire of something is more compelling than having it,” Ladybug considered, wondering how she herself felt about it. It was just a goad; there was no way it could realistically work. Their schedules were too erratic to build up his anticipation and she had no way of knowing how he was doing outside their suits.

Safe words would be meaningless if she couldn’t even hear them.

“I don’t like it when you leave,” he whispered.

Ladybug blinked, unsure if she actually heard him. “What?”

“You …” He swallowed, turning his face away again and she moved back on her elbows, just close enough to examine the clench of his jaw. “You left me there.”

Her heart throbbed, painfully reaching up her throat. “Chat…”

Everything had been so overwhelming. His strange reactions, her sudden escalation to oral, the real fear of almost being caught, the implications between them. As soon as she’d answered that door, she’d panicked, desperate to run away and collect herself all over again.

She hadn’t even realized what that looked like to him.

“I’m sorry, Chat.”

She palmed his cheek, pulling his eyes to meet hers. His face eyes glittered with tears.

“You said you didn’t want to meet anymore.”

“I never said that!” She protested, watching him flinch. Then she remembered.

“Oh my god! I meant the classroom, Chat,” she insisted, shocked he jumped to that conclusion. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t have a janitor voyeur fetish, okay? I just freaked out.”

Chat cracked a grin. “At least we made a _clean_ getaway.”

Ladybug bit her lip, trying to hold in a smile. He was good, so good at raising the mood. Even when, sometimes, it might be better to stay there for a while. Because he’d been agonizing over this for days and if she had known she could have just told him everything was fine.

“I wanted to decide on another time but you were avoiding me so I thought I went too far.”

Chat sighed. “I was just trying to be normal again.”

“Not talking to me is never normal, Chat.”

He swallowed, his breaths shaky as he whispered, “Sorry.”

Ladybug stroked his hair, feeling strangely at ease as she settled on top of him, her arms folding on his chest, her thighs nestling his cock. “You should have told me.”

Because Chat was so charismatic, so good at saying just the right thing at the right time, she’d never fathomed that he could ever be at a loss for words. He wasn’t like her, spastic and out of control, but that didn’t mean that he had any more control of his silence than she had of her stuttering and shouting. But she didn’t have to except it. Neither did he.

How had Alya put it?  _“Girl, I know you didn’t mean it okay? Everyone has their rough days. You just gotta let me know what to do to make that smoother. You know me: I’m gonna worry and I’m gonna pry. I can’t promise that away. But I can promise to do what you ask me, okay?”_

Chat was lying under her, probably dying from her weight and the cuffs, somehow resisting the urge to rub against her. His self-discipline was terrifying. _Why is he so hard on himself?_ It struck her that maybe he lived his life outside of the mask this way. Constantly on edge, waiting for something to give.

“Still, you were able to tell me now,” she praised, moving her hands to stroke his head. Her tiny breasts squished against his chest, feeling larger and more feminine than she’d thought they could be. “My kitty needs extra pets and attention, right?”

She punctuated this with a light rock against his dick. He moaned, the sound tremoring against her chest. Her whole body was melting, desperate for everything she’d been denying.

“Yes,” he sighed, gently rocking back.

“Rule three, Chaton,” she managed out, tugging his hair. “I want you to beg for it.”

He released a shaky breath. “Please, my lady.”

Oh god, her hips were trembling. “Please, what, Chaton?”

The silence almost killed her. “Make me cum.”

 

\---

 

Chat groaned as her thighs parted, just enough to bracket his. She tested the angle, her own breaths becoming shallow pants as she rocked against him. God, she was so warm and soft and he wanted to flip her over, pin her down, fuck himself deeply into her as she clutched him tightly, screaming his name with her own wild release.

But he was in bonds. And she hadn’t ordered him to move.

Her hands left his hair, leaving him bereft, hoping for another one of those mind-blowing tugs. He could just imagine going down on her, those hands pulling and guiding him into submission. They moved onto his chest, pressing down as she slid up. The ecstasy of his dick wedging deeper between her legs, the extra pressure on his arms and back created a delicious concoction of opposing forces. He could stay there forever, feeling her tiny thrusts quivering against him.

“You like that?” She asked, her voice low and throaty, something straight out of porn.

“Don’t stop,” he pleaded, aiding the fantasy.

Ladybug moaned, grinding harder, slower, indulging in every inch of him. He’d expected a quick fumbling, the eruption of all the tightly bound feelings she’d forced them to lock. Instead, she was lingering in the moment as if she wanted it to last forever. As if she  _wanted_ to stay with him.

“I need …” she sucked in a breath, back arching, her neck looking lovely in moonlight. “Chat…”

His reply was meaningless, a devolution of sound, wild and erotic.

“Please,” she cried, gripping his shoulders. “Move.”

He gave in with one rough thrust, enough to make her bounce.

“Ah!~” She cried, her own hips jerking still as she shook. “Chat…”

The angle was difficult, his arms heavy and bruised, but he ground slower, trying to imitate that feeling she’d so purposefully chased. Ecstatic when she met him with her own thrust.

“Please, please, Ch-chat,” she begged, wanting what he couldn’t give.

“Help me up,” he demanded, his brusque tone causing her to still.

“Chat?”

 “You need it harder.”

Ladybug backed off, manipulating his body back into a sitting position as he drew up his knees. His erection throbbed from the movement, tortuously. She slowly returned, biting her lip nervously as she examined his body. She reached out to stroke him directly, her eyes growing almost heavy lidded.

“I want you to cum with me,” he protested.

Doubt tinged her expression, her brow furrowing with want and shame. “Chat…”

“This is my reward, right?” He goaded, pulling false bravado. “Straddle me, bugaboo.”

His breath staggered when she did just that, her fingers pulling back his hair as she growled, “Don’t get cocky with me.”

“Little late for that,” he panted, laughter weak and dry. Ladybug tugged again, her knees spreading on the floor as she ground down, her face close enough that he could see her mouth widen into a pornographic ‘O’.

It took a bit of positioning, but he finally cradled her ass on his thighs, matching her tempo as she buried her face in his neck, her fingers scratching the leather of his suit as she muffled her moans. Then he felt her whole body stiffen with a tremor, vibrating against him as she cried in his ear, the sound pulling forth his own orgasm after hers.Then she melted, curling around him as she had that first session, her chest so tight against his they could almost share heartbeats. If he could use his hands, he’d hug her back, maybe even hold her still before prying her lips with his tongue. He’d work her body into another fever keeping her writhing and desperate for him so she’d never leave again.

Instead, he took what he could get, letting out a satisfied sigh as he rested his cheek against hers. Was there anyone who loved as deeply as he loved this girl?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, uh, that happened. Haha.
> 
> Let me know what you guys think.


	20. Warm Relief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Snuggles, steam, and Plagg getting real.

Ladybug held Chat close, reality creeping around them as she came down from her high. _What the fuck did I just do?_ She’d moaned, loudly, like a goddamned slut, and rode him on top of the Eiffel Tower. Anyone could have heard them! Her first instinct was to curl up in her bed, maybe cry about it to Tikki, or writing erratic confessions in her diary. But then she remembered his voice, broken and lost,

_“You left me there.”_

God, she hadn’t realized how much she’d fucked up. She’d done some reading about aftercare. People said it was good if subs were nervous or upset after a session, a great way to get them back to reality. It never occurred to her that he would need that too. He could bounce back from even the worst akuma and Chat always seemed so happy after they played.

Then again, Chat always seemed happy.

“Are you … doing okay?” She asked, trying to gauge him.

“Mmm,” he mumbled, almost sleepily.

She squeezed him tightly in reply. Then she realized his arms were bunched up.

“Crap, let me—”

“No,” he grumbled, pressing his face into her shoulder. “I don’t wanna move.”

Ladybug puffed her cheeks, trying to quell her annoyance. Defiantly, she felt around for the chains, fumbling as she tried to undo the twists and knots. “You can’t stay like this.”

Chat snorted. “I can if you can’t even untie them.”

“Hey, I had to work with what I had,” she snapped defensively. “It’s not my fault you gave me a foot of chain to work with, geez.”

Finally, the chains started to loosen. “Hah, take that.”

“Damn.” His tone was wistful.

His arms fell and she shimmied around, trying to undo the clasps on the bracers. “You sure you don’t want to return these and get your money back?”

“Keep them,” he insisted again, childish and stubborn.

“Yeah, yeah, fine,” she answered, sliding the cuffs down his arms. “You aren’t allowed to go back to that adult store again though.”

Because no way was, she letting him do something that stupid again. Chat stiffened slightly. It only made sense. She hadn’t really given him an order outside of a session before. Was she even allowed to do that? Testing the waters, she whispered, “not until I order you to.”

Because next time she wanted to be with him, damn it.

“Yes, my lady,” he chuckled, the sound getting cut off with a wince as his arms fell to his side. She scooted back on his lap, pulling his arms forward, wishing she could see what she’d done underneath the leather and midnight.

“Plagg’s gonna kill me,” Chat mumbled as she stroked his arms.

_Ah._ The cat kwami. They’d met briefly once, when Chat had supposedly lost his miraculous. He had been a miniature of Chat Noir, carefree and snappy, until he actually came to the rescue. She remembered asking Tikki whether miraculous effected personality and Tikki had snorted, saying,

_“It certainly doesn’t help.”_

Whatever the hell that meant.

“Your kwami? Why?”

“He said it was my business whether or not I wanted to be pervert but cumming in the suit crossed the line,” Chat grumbled, reminding her of just exactly what they’d done.

God, it must be hot and sticky. “Oh, you’re going to have to walk home in that, aren’t you?”

“Don’t worry, LB, I’ll figure it out.”

There he was again. Throwing away his own suffering. Just a week ago she would have nodded, distancing herself with some sort of flippant comment. But this was all part of the scene, all her responsibility. “Next time we’ll try it without the suit.”

Chat stiffened under her. “Next time?”

Her heart thudded wildly. Maybe she had been presumptuous in thinking he enjoyed that. What if she had been too eager, too loud, too awkward with her binding, too inept with her handling of him, what if he didn’t want her—

“W-w-well, there doesn’t have to be a next time, there are other things we can do besides, y-you said you wanted to try th-things but you can always say n-no if you—”

“Do you want to?” He interrupted, hands on her shoulders.

She squeaked. “I can handle it. Not that you can’t, just I’m the dom, so, I mean—”

Chat moved his hands to cup her face. “Did we go too far?”

“Shouldn’t I ask you that?” She mumbled, startled by how nice his hands felt.

“It was,” his chest expanded, trying to encapsulate what happened between them, the space between his words filling her with dread. “Intense. Amazing. But we don’t have to go that far if it’s too much. I know you have, um, reservations about ... I, uh, was being a bit selfish with my request.”

Ladybug wanted to pick the pieces of his mind, stack them up one by one and finally make sense of what was happening inside there. “I told you to ask me for what you wanted.”

“But I don’t want you to ever do something you don’t want to,” he protested, pulling back. She frowned, trying to understand him. If moaning and begging on top of him was what she sounded like when she _didn’t_ want it, god help them when she actually started getting into it.

“Chat, no one can make me do anything,” she snapped, pulling a bit of bravado. “So, stop sitting there and beating yourself up about something that’s not even true.”

Chat wrapped his arms around her, his hug so strong it almost crushed her. “I just don’t want you to feel guilty about it later,” he whispered.

Insecurity rang through her. Because even if she wanted to deny it, she couldn't.

 

\---

 

Adrien stumbled into the shower, blasting the water to drown out Plagg’s bitching.

“But you don’t ever listen to me, do you?!” Plagg was screeching, flitting around on the other side of the glass, stalking back and forth in an odd bout of frustration. “It’s like the more someone tells you not the do something, the more you _have_ to do it.”

“Reminds me of you,” Adrien teased, peaking out of the shower.

Plagg rolled his eyes. “It’s the principle of thing. I don’t eat my cheese on your bed.”

Adrien snorted, lathering up some soap. “But you totally do though.”

Plagg chose to ignore that. “Why is she always so mad all the time? She’s not like that at all outside of the suit. Plus, I thought you were doing it so she wouldn’t be mad!”

“She’s not mad, Plagg, she’s just stressed,” he argued, lathering his hair. “And I’m not doing it for her sake, you know. I happen to I like being with her. If anything, she’s the one doing me a favor.”

“Ugh, I almost wish you were writing sappy love poetry again. At least that was juvenile.”

“What can I say, Plagg? I’m all grown up.”

Plagg continued grumbling as he let the warm steam envelop him. One of the reasons he liked showers so much was that overwhelming heat, so different from the empty halls of the manor. For a moment, he could pretend someone was with him, holding him. It was so much easier to imagine with Ladybug’s touch still lingering. He shook the thought, running his hands through his hair, flinching when his arm pinged. He rotated his forearms, looking at the purpling bruises from the chain. It was different from rope marks; impersonal and chaotic, probably something that would linger unpleasantly for days.

_I’m going to have a hard time covering this up._

“And that’s another thing!” Plagg continued, becoming audible again from his back and forth prowling. “Why doesn’t she want to talk to you? I thought the point of telling her you knew her was so that you could improve your friendship and learn how to communicate! Not become sex friends!”

“W-we aren’t sex friends,” Adrien sputtered, turning off the water.

Plagg threw a towel on the floor outside. “Ya could have fooled me!”

Adrien started drying himself, frowning at the kwami. Usually, Plagg would already be asleep, his only complaints based on his lack of nap time and extra cheese. He hadn’t shown judgment or reservations the other times. Even with the jokes, Adrien could tell Plagg was happy for him. It just wasn’t in the kwami to ever be straightforward with his feelings.

He was similar to Marinette that way.

“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t consider you Plagg. Next time I’ll stay out of the suit.”

The kwami huffed, rolling his eyes. “What difference will that make?”

Adrien felt a brief flicker of anxiety. Plagg was complicated at best, but he’d become fairly competent at understanding the kwami. And Plagg understood him. It was why they were so comfortable with each other. Why they could react and interact to each other without hardly any conversation some days. 

“That’s…that’s not why you’re mad?”

Plagg’s tail drooped and for moment, he seemed like he wouldn’t answer.

“She almost dropped you off a building,” Plagg uttered, his eyes glittering.  “I didn’t become your kwami so you can hurt yourself like that.”

_Tears?_ He hadn’t known a kwami could cry. “Yeah, we’re not going to do that again.”

“You promise?”

Adrien cupped the kwami in his hands. He wasn’t used to anyone worrying about him. Not since his mother had disappeared. “I’m sorry Plagg, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

_Or Marinette,_ he thought mentally, remembering her sobbing on top of him. Was it really the same night? So much had happened between them.

“I’m a god of destruction and don’t you forget it! There’s a reason ancient cultures fear the cat,” Plagg was blabbering, little chest puffing up with pride. “I wasn’t scared. At all.”

“Yes, yes,” Adrien chuckled, petting his head. Plagg’s eyes slanted down but before he could retort, Adrien’s phone started vibrating on the counter.

Well, one of his phones.

He and Plagg shared a glance before the kwami dove for the phone, zooming up to the ceiling with his prize. “Well, well, well, what do you have to say for yourself, Ladybug?”

Then, very slowly, he floated back down. His expression complicated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is definitely not the first time Adrien and Plagg have talked about this situation--they probably gossip back and forth about everything--but it's the first time I had a chance to really write his perspective. When Adrien is happy, he is happy, so he probably secretly enjoys listening to him gush about Ladybug while he pretends to mock him. Meanwhile, Tikki is majestically guiding Marinette through life with sage advice and gentle encouragement while silently judging her haha.
> 
> Honestly, being a kwami probably sucks. It's like being a genie without any indication of when you will be free. 
> 
> Anyway, that's my TedTalk. See you guys on Wednesday. Thanks for sticking around for 20 chapters, woohoo!


	21. Twilight Messages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: TALKING ... yup, just talking.

Marinette took a deep breath, the smell of her lavender shampoo filling her nostrils. The phone had been easy enough to work. It only had a couple apps on it and a smiling Chat Noir selfie as the background. The messenger was small and private, and her username was set to _Buginette_ which...

She wasn’t sure how to feel about.

Tikki had been distant, as if sensing Marinette’s need for space, quietly saying she was going to sleep and they’d talk about things in the morning. Tikki had floated into her little bed on the nightstand but Marinette knew she was lying wide awake, listening and waiting.

               **R u okay? Did I hurt u badly? Did u make it home safe?**

All popped up on her screen, only to be erased by her cursor and doubts.

Instead she sent,

               **Ok, Im on ur secretagent phone. How do I change my username?**

The reply took exactly six minutes. It bothered her that she knew that.

**Chaton: But we’re matching!**

She snorted. Obviously, she’d given him too much credit.

               **Chaton: Why don’t you like it?**

               **It’s whatevr. R u home?**

Did that sound casual enough or too mean? God, this is why she preferred talking on the phone. Staring at those little dots, reading her words over and over again, always drove her insane.

               **Chaton: Yes. I just took a shower**.  （＾・ω・＾）

Cat emojis. What was she even surprised?  She could just imagine him leaning closer to her as he said that, that shit eating grin on his face. Hesitant, so, so hesitant, she typed,

               **Me 2.**

Immediately, she wanted to take it back. He was taking way, way, way too long to answer.

               **Chaton: That’s good.**

**Yeah.**

Holy shit, she couldn’t even think of anything to say. What that an invitation? Did he want her to say something sexy to him?

               **Chaton: Thank you for texting me. I know you weren’t thrilled about it.**

               **No big deal.**

Again, the long crazy pause. She finished toweling her hair, letting out a sigh as she laid down on her bed, staring up at the skylight door. _What the hell am I doing?_ This was why she hated texting! She had to sit there and look at every single incriminating word she said and think about every other possible response she could have typed. 

               **Chaton: It is to me.**

It was weird how different he seemed in text. She’d imagined garbled text language, way more emojis, and tons of reaction pictures. Instead, he texted like a grandma.

               **Chaton: afkajskdfja**

Or maybe not.

               **Chaton: WENED2TALK!**

_What?_

               **Chaton: WERSGHD!**

Marinette tried googling the strange combination of letters, wondering if it was German or something. It took way too long for him to answer.

**Chaton: Sorry, LB. Plagg tried to take the phone.**

Marinette bit her lip.

               **Becuz of teh suit?**

Her heart was hammering and she wished she’d never agreed to texting.

               **Chaton: Partially. He doesn’t quite understand why we do the things we do.**

Well, it was to be expected. Not everyone was as understanding as Tikki. And it wasn’t like she understood it either. Chat was probably having doubts as well after what almost happened.

               **Chaton: I’m sorry. He says he _does_ understand but he doesn’t like the way we do it. **

Were all kwamis knowledgeable about human kinks? Tikki was secretive at best, and Marinette had trouble voicing her thoughts out loud anyway. Bravely, she responded. 

               **Does he have advice?**

\---

Adrien shared a glance with Plagg, who had finally calmed down and stopped complaining, and settled on Adrien’s forearm, tilting his head inquisitively as he examined the text again.

“What makes her think I know anything?”

“I mean, if you _are_ going to criticize, you might as well offer alternatives,” Adrien counter-argued. He wasn’t sure what bothered him more. The fact that Plagg accused Marinette of being careless and mean or the fact that some of what he was saying might have a smidgen of truth to it.

Plagg huffed. “I already told her to stop bitching, it’s not my fault you won’t text that to her.”

“That’s not really an alternative.”

Adrien started typing anyway, knowing she needed to hear something back.

               **Just spend some time researching a bit more.**

**Buginette: Thats hardr then it sonds.**

He remembered overhearing Marinette and Ayla talking about a research project they did together for history where Marinette said “google is basically useless” and Ayla snapped back about “a computer is only as smart as what you input”. She had put in long sentences with specific questions, yielding strange unrelated material and sighing that computers were basically beyond her. He’d almost gotten enough courage to lean over her shoulder in the computer lab and show her some of his own tricks. He’d imagined being just close enough to smell her hair, wondering if her shampoo was fruity or flowery, feeling guilty for using this as an excuse to find the answer for that. Then Chloe had stolen Nino’s seat, taking him on her own whirlwind adventure.

**I could send you some links.**

Plagg was quiet. Highly unusual. His ears flickering as he waited for the next reaction on the phone. The way a person might wait for their favored sport team to place a goal.

               **Buginette: Ok. Ty.**

Adrien smiled. Funny how four letters could warm him.

               **Anything in particular?**

“Ugh, this is going to get gross, isn’t it?” Plagg gagged, floating up. “I need some camembert.”

“You sure you’re okay?” Adrien called, watching him as he started searching the cabinets. “There wasn’t anything else you wanted to say?”

“Nothing you’ll let me,” he grumbled. The phone hummed.

               **Aftercare and preparation.**

He had expected something erotic or graphic but he supposed the question made sense. Once they got into the mindset it was almost like the session took control of itself.

               **That really depends on what kind of things you want to do.**

Adrien held his breath with baited anticipation. Had she gone home and imagined more with him? What she lying there, hot and soft, waiting for him?

               **Buginette: We shuld probbly talk 2mrrw. Jus wanted 2 check in.**

He smiled and sighed, slowly typing out his reply.

               **Yeah, sure thing. LB. Don’t stress, okay?** **ฅ** **(** **＾・** **ω** **・＾** **ฅ** **)**

               **Buginette: Lol. Nite.**

Adrien set the phone down on his night stand and sighed with satisfaction.

“What? What happened?” Plagg asked, peeking from the cupboard with his stash.

“You can read it if you promise not to text her.”

Plagg hummed, floating up to tap on the messenger icon, scrolling through the last few lines. He gave a little shrug and went back to his cheese, apparently placated for the time being.

 “Wow, you almost had a conversation. I told you the phones were a good idea. Ladybug just didn’t want to admit it because _she_ didn’t come up with it.”

Adrien held his wrists, examining the bruising thoughtfully. “I think it might have been my fault.”

“Oh my god, not everything is your fault,” Plagg groaned, inhaling another wedge. “I told you, you’re not allowed to be all doom and gloom anymore. It’s because you have that attitude that people take advantage of you. Ladybug shouldn’t have been so stupid. That’s on her.”

“Plagg, she didn’t have time to prepare and probably felt pressured from me asking too much of her. I keep thinking I’m helping but every time I push her out of her comfort zone,” he confessed, holding his head between his hands. “I don’t even know if she wants any of this. She’s always helping people, even if it hurts her, everyone depends on her all the time and I’m no different.”

Plagg made a thoughtful noise. “This is why you need to talk to her. Both of you sit around getting stressed that the other person doesn’t like you but have you ever considered that both of you are fine? It just makes no sense to me. If you are going to do it anyway, why feel bad about it?”

Adrien felt some invisible weight lift from his shoulders. “You think I’m just overthinking things?”

“I _know_ you’re overthinking things.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is a slow chapter but you guys know how this story goes ahaha. Next thing you know it'll be too fast to handle. 
> 
> Is anyone really surprised that Plagg was the one who suggested they start texting? Or that he's super mad that his solution wasn't an instant fix and they are still tiptoeing around each other? If only love was as easy as eating cheese...
> 
> Also, how do we feel about Marinette's messy texting? I thought it kind of suited her scatterbrained and on-the-go personality. I'm the type who texts everything in complete sentences (like a grandma) so I'm not sure if I captured it right.


	22. Screen Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Pining cuties.

Marinette found herself scrolling through forums on a Saturday morning, reading personal accounts of BDSM relationships. She was glad to see that other people had the same questions and struggles she did. Gladder still to see that most of them didn’t seem weird or crazy. One man had mentioned his corporate job and another complained about taking his kids to soccer practice.

She supposed the only weird thing was they were all adults.

_I guess most people my age aren’t even doing it,_ Marinette thought glumly, scrolling through all the comments. Then her phone buzzed.

               **Chaton:** **Morning beautiful~**

She rolled her eyes. Predictably, Chat had been flooding the spy phones with texts in the last week. He almost used it like a personal diary, telling her observations about his day, sending pictures of snacks and buildings. She had to admit; he was surprisingly good at photography. Part of her was tempted to cross search the pictures to see if he had a social media.

But that would be cheating.

               **Morning.**

               **Chaton: What are you up to today? :D**

Marinette bit her lip. They’d had been carefully avoiding talking about BDSM since she said she’d do more research and she had to admit it was kind of nice. Their silly banter was reminiscent of their first months with the miraculous, back when they had been simply friends. Part of her was scared to try a scene with him again. Thinking about that almost happened, thinking about the things she  _could_ do to him terrified her. In someways she knew that he wanted to be hurt. But she was starting to think that maybe she wasn't ready for that. She found herself thinking about softer, warmer, confusing things. So, she kept it vague.

               **Reading stuff online.**

               **Chaton: OoOoOoh do you read LadybugxChatNoir fanfics too?**

Marinette snorted. Ayla had tried showing her some a long time ago and she’d flipped out, upset that strangers online were writing strange smut about her. Then she’d secretly tried reading some and slammed her laptop shut with disgust and vehement rants to Tikki about people assuming girl superheroes had to be love interests.  She spend that night staring at the ceiling, growing uneasy at the thought of her and Chat doing … that sort of thing.

Except, now it was a bit different, wasn’t it?

               **Any recs?**

Honestly, this was the smartest idea she had thought about ever. Chat probably read a ton. What an easy way to get information about what he liked without having to actually talk about it.

**Chaton: Wow, no protests or anything? I didn’t realize you supported our ship so much.**

Marinette grinned, typing faster.

               **No, actuly I wanted 2 red sum Chat Noir X Volpina.**

               **Chaton: OMG. NO.**

**Chaton: She’s a villain! That doesn’t even make sense!**

**Chaton: Fine, I’ll send you some Chloe X Ladybug, since you love her so much!**

She squealed in horror, causing Tikki to look up from the sock she was knitting.

               **But whyyyyy?**

               **Chaton: You know the moment you first rescued**

**her she met your eyes and the passion you so**

**desperately tried to hide burst into bloom.**

**She only causes akumas to see your beautiful**

**face once more. If only you could be honest**

**with your feelings for her.** **♡** **(ŐωŐ** **人** **)**

               **UR disgusting IM BLOCKING U.**

“You’re so cute when you text him,” Tikki said smugly, pawing her tiny face. “Is this what a proud parent feels like?”

“Ugh, please don’t,” Marinette protested, holding up a hand. “He’s just being stupid again.”

               **Chaton: No! Don’t!** **: ((((((((((((**

She bit down on her lip, trying to hide her growing grin.

                **Oh yeah. Y** **not?**

**Chaton: Because you like talking with me…right?**

How could she continue to tease him when he was so sincere?

               **I was actually reading some BDSM stuff.**

               **Chaton: Oh, that forum I told you about?**

If he were in person with that smug grin and prodding, she’d immediately deny it or spin it on him. But with the phone and distance, she could breathe, slowly releasing her emotions before replying,

               **I’d be too nervous to post that online.**

               **Chaton: I know. Especially with how easy it is to trace an IP.**

               **Its rlly more normal than I thought.**

**Chaton: Yup.** **😊**

**But they don’t go into enough detail.**

**Chaton: And you need your dirty details :3.**

There it was again. Chat starting to tease her. It was almost like before all of this had happened, the way he would teasingly flirt with her, expecting nothing to come out of it. But now something had. And now every suggestion had her hot and embarrassed. Almost stupidly so.

               **Chaton: Actually, I have a fic recommendation if you are interested.**

Her heart thumped in her chest. Over such a stupid little thing.

               **Ok.**

For some reason she imagined him leaning closer, tilting up her chin to making up for the height difference, backing her into a wall with a smile that was just for her.

               **Chaton: It’s called ‘Spots and Paws’. Ladybug takes Chat in and makes him her pet.**

Marinette waited for more of an explanation but nothing came. So, she typed it in her computer, finding it after a bit of searching, looking at the description with curiosity.

               **_After things get dangerous at the Noir household, Chat is left on the streets. Ladybug finds out and takes him home. On the condition he submit totally and completely as her pet._**

Ladybug started reading the intro, surprised when her counterpart put food in a dog bowl. Chat crawled over, the descriptions of his body made her mouth dry, and then he meowed. Ladybug laughed, scratching his head, teasing him as if he really were just a cat. The intro faded and by the time Ladybug was asking herself how they got there, Marinette was dying to know more.

Then her trap door burst open, causing her to scramble around, shutting down her computer and throwing the Chat phone in her back pocket. Alya shouted, “Girl, are you up? We about to miss Adrien’s live interview, hurry up!”

 

\---

 

Adrien stuffed the phone in his jacket, feeling a thrill at talking to her in the middle of a public studio. He doubted anyone noticed, but it was fun anyway, and kept his mind off his father’s angry warnings. If Gabriel Agreste had his way, there would be no interview at all, but being the top model in Paris made that impossible. Adrien wished he could be Chat Noir instead. Everyone expected him to be goofy and _liked_ him for it. All the interviews and attention were fun, especially with Ladybug at his side.

A crew member put a microphone on his lapel and he stared down at the designer suit in dismay. It seemed incredibly odd to do an entertainment interview in formal wear, but he had no say in it. As much as his father talked about accessibility and nostalgia in their new wear campaign, the company image would always be top of the line and noveau riche.

Nadja Chamack was exuberant as usual, shaking his hand as his at down on his couch.

“Thank you so much to agreeing to this interview.”

Adrien didn’t agree to shit. Still, he smiled and said, “Yes, it coincides well with our announcement for our new summer line-up.”

“And if I heard correctly, you already finished shooting for winter as well. Gabriel Agreste is such an icon of a businessman, you must be honored he is your father.”

Adrien glanced at the camera, wondering if they’d started rolling. This question wasn’t part of the pre-arranged script. “I deeply admire him.”

“Well, who wouldn’t?” Nadja praised, then turned to the camera. Her façade immediately became livelier. “Alright, reporting to you live this is Nadja Chamack, here with a special guest.”

“Good morning,” Adrien smiled at the camera. Some of the female crew members swooned.

The line of questioning went as predicted. A bit of conversation about fashion trends and his thoughts on them, then some conversation about their fashion line in America. He supposed _he_ had to be the one to answer everything, since his father refused to make public appearances. Natalie had been lecturing him for days about things like assets and stocks, prepping him for these exact questions.

“The akuma attack must have been quite the shock,” Nadja switched, looking sympathetic. Adrien caught himself just in time before he winked and threw out a pun. Instead, he carefully said,

“Thankfully Ladybug was there to save the day.”

“Ah, yes our resident superhero. Are you a fan of superheroes?”

Adrien chuckled. “Who isn’t?”

“Who indeed?” Nadja chuckled along, the sound horrendously fake. “Except Jeanne D’Arc posted on her twitter some disparaging remarks about Ladybug.”

“I cannot speak for my co-worker but I imagine turning into an akuma is very shocking,” Adrien replied, knowing his father wanted him to keep a neutral stance.  A lot of Parisian upper-class were not in support of Ladybug: the idea of vigilantism and a teenage superhero appalled them. Probably because they couldn't bribe their way out of her polka-dot branded justice. 

Nadja didn’t relent. “But most akumas are thankful for Ladybug’s intervention.”

“Jeanne has already publicly apologized on her social media,” Adrien answered, growing firmer. “There's no need to demand anything more from her. A lot of people are treated poorly just because they were forced against their will to be an akuma. You yourself faced some dissention after you’d been akumatized.”

“Yes, well, I—”

“We already know those who have been akumatized are more vulnerable to Hawkmoth striking again. And even if they weren’t, it’s not right to attack someone who has been that vulnerable. Any one of us can be akumatized. Instead of terrorizing each other we should be understanding. We all make mistakes and I’m sure Ladybug understands that best of all.”

People in the background started clapping and Adrien felt his stomach curl. _Fuck, I shouldn’t have said all that._ But he was so sick and tired of hearing his classmates and co-workers and people on the street insulting people for losing control of their emotions or making insensitive jokes like “don’t get all akuma on me now”. At least the reaction seemed positive, even Nadja had recovered and was praising him.

Doubtless, his father wouldn’t be thrilled.

“Wow, it’s no wonder you’re rated #1 Paris Teenage Hearthrob,” Nadja finally stated, getting off the akuma subject. “A hardworking model, quadrilingual speaker, musician and a great public speaker.”

All the flattery made him uncomfortable. “Yes, well, I’ve had a unique upbringing.”

“And modest too! I’m sure all the girls at school get nervous just being around you. Everyone was probably excited when they heard you were enrolling.”

Adrien quickly saw the way out and took it. “I’m no different from any other student. My classmates are really down-to-earth and friendly. We’re all supportive of each other.”

The conversation continues with callouts to all of his awesome classmates, from Kim and his rapid swimming, to Max and his computer skills, and even Sabrina with her amazing organization skills. He was even able to slip in, “And Marinette, who sits behind me, is a super talented fashion designer. Maybe if I’m lucky I can wear her clothes on the runway someday.”

“It sounds like all your classmates are exceptional,” Nadja answered, flipping to her last cue card. “Before we get off the air, we had a fan poll for the top questions fans want to know about you. With almost 60,000 votes that number one question is: What kind of girl are you attracted to?”

Adrien smiled, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “Oh, that’s super easy. She’s super kind and smart and probably a bit awkward too. We laugh about stupid things like cat pictures on the internet. She’s someone I can just be myself around. Someone whose my best friend first.“

 

\---

 

Marinette leaned closer to the screen, getting lost in the gentle light of his eyes. “But most importantly. I know she’ll always be there when I need her. She’s like my personal superhero.”

“And that’s Adrien Agreste, viewers. After this commercial break, we’ll count down this summer’s top 10 movies currently in theaters. Nadja Chamack out.”

Alya clicked off the TV, smiling nervously as she said, “you good girl?”

“D-d-did you hear that?” Marinette asked, tears bubbling, as Alya patted her shoulder. “He’s so sweet and amazing and kind. He even said nice stuff about me! He likes my designs!”

“Girl, it was all true,” Alya encouraged, pulling her in for a side hug. “I told you he doesn’t think you’re a mess. Even if you get all, you know, stutter-y around him.”

Marinette squeezed her pillow tightly, her face burning. The way he looked at her! It was almost like he was speaking directly to her, as if he already loved her! She knew the things he said weren’t really directed at her but for the briefest moment she could pretend. Right?

“He definitely has my approval,” her mom laughed from the kitchen. “When are you bringing him home băobèi?”

“You know he was basically talking about you, right? Kind, check, smart, check, awkward, CHECK!” Alya punctuated this with some keystrokes on her phone, already scrolling. Marinette’s mom put a platter of cookies on the coffee table, excusing herself to go down the bakery. Meanwhile, Marinette didn’t even notice, she was too busy replaying the whole interview in her head.

She had no idea that Adrien felt so strongly about akuma victims. In the few public interviews he did, he always steered clear of any serious issues. It was one of the things she could admit wasn’t his best quality—after all, if you were silent then you were part of the problem—but it had been something she’d been willing to overlook for him. Hearing him speak out for people, and even compliment her work as Ladybug, had tipped the scale even more in his favor.

Then her phone buzzed. Except it wasn’t the one on the table, but the one in her back pocket.

_Chat…_ It was like a glass of cold water thrown in her face.

If she were a good person, she’d let go of this obsession with Adrien. He’d never notice her anyway. And Chat was funny, sweet, extremely compatible with her, and accepted even the worst parts of herself. He didn’t deserve to be with someone who was constantly looking the other way. Tikki had told her she needed to make some sort of decision and god damn it, she knew the kwami was right.

“Oh…” Alya muttered, hands freezing on her phone.

“What’s wrong?” Marinette asked, pulling herself out of her head.

Alya wordlessly passed over her smart phone. The screen was littered with responses to the interview, girls claiming to be the one he was talking about, hundreds of candid shots of Adrien talking with his fellow models, fans breaking down and analyzing each and every word.

**_“Did you see the way he talked about her?_ **

**_I wish I was that girl! OMG!”_ **

 

               **_“That’s not even a fantasy, that’s a real relationship._**

**_No boy is that pure guys, he’s hiding a girl.”_ **

****

**_“He used present tense, omfg!_ **

**_He was talking about a real person!”_ **

****

               **_“I think we can all agree that Adrien Agreste_**

**_Is totally in love with his mystery girlfriend.”_ **

Alya wordlessly took her phone back, letting Marinette process the fact that the boy she’d been pining for all this time was in love with someone else. That maybe she was too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, sorry for posting late! Got a lot of stress right now :(((. I'm going to have to go back to posting once a week for a while until the heat dies down. Sorry for the inconvenience. 
> 
> Hope this was a good chapter! Has a bit of character study from both sides. And maybe a few hints about the future o3o .


	23. Trickling Lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Angst.

The uproar from after the interview was insane. Fans lined up outside the TV studio, trying to break past his bodyguard, declaring their “mutual” love for him. His father was rapidly chatting with Natalie on the phone, trying to plan some sort of public announcement to deal with the drama.

“I don’t think denying it to the press will help. That will only make it seem like we are hiding something,” Natalie was responding, unfazed by the rage on the other line. Adrien, meanwhile, felt like he had been turned to stone. His heart was rapidly beating and yet he felt breathless. Who knew what sort of hell his father was going to unleash?

Pulling him out of a school was a definite. They’d been fighting on it back and forth anyway, this was just the push his father needed to say, “oh hell with it”. He’d go back to private lessons, never going outside and never seeing Nino or any of the dudes again.

He’d never get to eavesdrop on Marinette again.

A pang hit his eyes and he blinked, drawing a breath through his nose. His father wouldn’t be pleased. Crying was a sign of weakness. A little paw reached out of his messenger bag, patting his thumb. Adrien stared down at Plagg, a smile starting to return.

_Well, I suppose I can always run away._ They’d joked about taking to the streets before. Plagg said Paris basically owed them their weight in cheese, they could totally take payment for their superhero work. Maybe set up a public office even. But Ladybug wouldn’t like that. She said they shouldn’t ever make people pay for the right to be safe.

They stopped in front of the mansion and Adrien walking through the large doors of his prison, settling for the fact that even if he was forced to stay in his room that he at least had Chat Noir. At least he could still go outside and feel like he was doing something _worth_ doing, spending fleeting moments with the girl that he loved. His father was standing on top of the stairs, arms folded behind his back, expression cold.

“I told you time and time again that you were to take a neutral stance on akumatization,” he started, descending the stairs. “We are not a political organization and making that sort of announcement devalues the art of what we do. You need to stop living in this fantasy that adults are not aware of or dealing with the issues of the world. I didn’t raise you to be a revolutionary.”

“Yes, father,” Adrien muttered, staring at the marble floors.

His father's voice was scathing. “You’ve put me in a tight position. If I do nothing then it looks like we are just talk. Natalie, start brainstorming an initiative to increase employee satisfaction. We will not offer counseling nor assessments; don’t let it be said our employees are fragile or incompetent.”

_Because of course that’s the conclusion_ you  _jump_ _to,_  Adrien thought sarcastically.

“Of course, sir,” Natalie answered, tapping away. Doubtless it would turn into something like an extra company holiday or employee luncheon. Just enough to get the heat off their backs but not enough to actually mean anything. It was a wonder that no one had begun to notice the pattern.

“Who is she?” His father demanded, pulling him out of his thoughts.

“Who?” He replied airily. 

“Don’t play coy with me Adrien. Which one of your classmates is it?”

There was nothing to lose at this point anyway. “Which one of my classmates, what?”

“All the sneaking around, the lying. You wouldn’t hide her from me if she was someone acceptable,” he argued, towering over Adrien, the sharp planes of his face utterly terrifying. “What are you trying to hide from me? Have you slept with her?”

Adrien’s face flamed. “Wh-what, no! There is no _her_ ; I don’t have a girlfriend!”

“It’s true; I’ve checked all his social media as you requested and he hasn’t been talking with of his female classmates outside of school assignments,” Natalie said, surprising him with her defense. Then he bristled. He _knew_ they were going through his texts. There had been conversations, minor inklings about information he was sure he didn’t mention, plans that suddenly cropped up when he was invited out. It was why he kept his texts so formal. Why he’d finally caved to Plagg's request and gotten a secret phone.

“What about the cash withdrawals from his account?” Gabriel asked, as if he weren’t there.

“Still trying to track which banks, sir. But the times are strange. It may be someone accessing his accounts with permission,” Natalie answered, flatly scrolling through her ipad. “Extremely large sums in the middle of the night. Adrien was in his room during those times.”

Which the probably assumed because of the GPS on his phone. God, if he didn’t find some way to calm things down, they’d start checking on his night hours like hospital nurses.

“You are on a thin line,” his father said, steeling his attention back. “Whatever you are hiding, I will eventually find out. The longer this draws out the worse it will become. Unfortunately, I have a client meeting in the next hour. Finish your school work and we’ll talk more over dinner.”

“Schoolwork?” Adrien echoed, a bit of hope leaking out into his tone.

His father frowned. “It would be unwise to pull you out after the show you put on. We’ll wait until the publicity dies down. Until then, your studies will be your top priority. You can forget about wasting time with these so-called friends of yours. Don’t forget, most of them are just crawling around you to beg for money. Especially this girl of yours. Make the smart decision and don’t let them use you.”

“Yes father,” Adrien sighed, trudging up the stairs.

One painstakingly long afternoon and awkward dinner later and Adrien pulled out some excuse about buying snacks after school and the whole money issue was dropped. Mysteriously, enough his father had nothing more to say about the girlfriend and Adrien chose to not bring it up either.

His classmates, on the other hand, were not so discrete.

“Look, he doesn’t have a girlfriend dudes, chill,” Nino interjected, as the whole class gathered around their desk. For all his teasing behavior, he really pulled through when Adrien told him how much all the attention bothered him. He was a better bodyguard than Gorilla sometimes. “You know how those TV editing things go, real creepy man.”

“Ah, you’re just saying that,” Kim laughed, giving Adrien a playful shove. “Who is she? Is she a super model? I bet she’s a supermodel. Up top bro! Is she smoking hot?”

“Of course I am; everyone knows he was talking about moi,” Chloe snapped, flipping her hair. “Why don’t you peasants stay out of our business? You wouldn’t understand our love.”

“Hard to understand something that’s not real,” Alya quipped, sending Chloe fuming. Before she could call her father and shut down the school, Ms. Mendeliev stammered from her podium.

“Class, I know it is pleasant to see Adrien again, but please welcome him outside of class time.”

The whole class had him on edge as everyone repeatedly joked with him. He hid out in the abandoned classroom during lunch and was pretty successful at avoiding conversations about it the rest of the day. Then, as he was leaving to his fencing class and waiting for Gorilla to come pick him up, he felt someone tug his sleeve.

Marinette, the last person he’d expected, shuffled back, twiddling her fingers.

“Oh, hi,” he breathed, taken aback. _What does she think of all this?_

Her smile was painfully bright as she said, “C-congratulations on the girlfriend, it’s about time, right? N-not that there was a ru-rush, I mean _any_ girl would be lucky to date you, ahahaha, since you’re like famous and all not that I would know, I’m not— NOT bothered by that, hnnn, I bet she’s really great!”

Adrien’s heart clenched as he tried to interject. “Marinette, wait—"

But she kept babbling, throwing her hands up in some mock enthusiasm, unable to pretend how disgusted he made her. “You are super awesome and sweet and so she’s probably happy. I mean, she IS happy, obviously you would know, she’s _your_ girlfriend. Congrats, by the way, on getting a girlfriend!”

“Mari…”

Marinette flinched as if he slapped her, her mouth clamping shut. Before he could ask what the intense expression in her eyes meant, she ran away, leaving him alone in the hall. Adrien pushed back his hair, a tension headache building in his forehead as he muttered what he should have just said months ago,

“You’re the one I’m in love with.”

 

\---

 

Marinette managed to make it to her room after a full day of bakery work and quickly scarfing down dinner, ignoring her parents’ sympathetic looks, before throwing herself on her mattress. Tikki brushed her hair, voice light as she said,

“You did the right thing. I’m sure he’s happy you’re supporting him as a friend.”

“I know,” she groaned, turning around on her back. “It just sucks! I’ve been in love with him for so long, I don’t know if I’ll ever stop. I didn’t know heartbreaks actually hurt this bad, Tikki.”

Tikki looked at the computer thoughtfully. “I’m not actually sure if he has a girlfriend though.”

“Oh, not you too,” Marinette pleaded. Alya had been consoling her all day, saying that Nino was right and Adrien was single and that this would be a perfect time to confess. Which, of course, made her so anxious she wanted to vomit. She was tired of this rollercoaster. Thinking he might love her back, realizing there was no way. The worst part was all this back and forth was entirely in her head. The way he lit up when he looked at her, the way his voice seemed to cradle her name as if it was something precious, the way he always held on to her shoulder like he was looking for an excuse just to touch her. All of it, the same deluded fantasies every girl in Paris seemed to share.

She clutched her cat pillow. “It might be better this way, Tikki.”

“Why do you say that?”

“It’s not like I can actually confess to him anyway. At least now I have a definite no.”

Tikki hummed, crossing her arms and looking away from Marinette. She was always supportive and yet it always felt like there was some thought on the tip of her tongue. Some variable her ancient eyes could see that Marinette could not. But the kwami offered nothing more than,

“Will you tell Chat?”

She could just imagine his ears dropping, lightly swallowing as he looked away, quietly asking,

_“So, you still love him? After everything we…”_

It was so wrong. If she accepted Chat now then she wasn't treating him any better than an undesired alternative. He definitely didn’t deserve that, not on top of everything she’d been putting him through. He was so trusting and kind and she couldn't understand what he liked about her so much. She was loud, anxious, and way too caught up in her own problems. The worst part was that he seemed okay with being walked all over. No matter how crazy or awful she was he took everything in, accepting parts of her that she herself still held at range.

“He already knows,” Marinette muttered. He knew who her crush was, he’d probably seen the news. It was unfair to go to him about it and expect some sort of comfort. She only hoped that he wouldn’t bring it up himself. It was a conversation she'd be desperately avoiding, the same way she'd been changing the subject when he asked when their next session was. 

               **Chaton: Hey, bugaboo!**

Speak of the devil. Then again, 8:00pm was about the time he usually started texting. She’d expected him to blow up the phone more, but he must really have a lot of things to do.

**Hi.**

Marinette bit her lip, already feeling her tears drying up, the ache in her heart relaxing. There hadn’t been an akuma in a while and the two of them had been little more than pen pals. And yet..

               **I finished teh fic.**

**Chaton: :O that was fast.**

**Shut up. I like 2 read.**

**Chaton: Oh, sure you do.** **/** **ᐠ** **=** **ᆽ** **=** **ᐟ** **\**

**Chaton: What did you think?**

Honestly, it had been a bit poorly written, over the top with smut, and yet something about the idea of seeing Chat sitting at her feet, rumbling with purrs and adoration, kept her focused until the end.

               **Is it rlly like that?**

**Chaton: What do you mean?**

**Being treated like an animal. Is it actuly nice?**

He didn’t answer immediately. Giving her enough time to worry over it.

               **Chaton: I wouldn’t mind. If you liked it.**

**Do u?**

**Chaton: You’ll have to find** **out (** **=** **｀** **ω´=)**

God, she could imagine that coy smirk on his face. She wouldn’t back down.

               **U want 2 eat outta a bowl?**

**Chaton: If you ask nicely.**

**And play with … toys?**

**Chaton:** **Σ(;Φ ω Φ)  Are you inviting me over?**

Marinette stared at the box peeking out from under her bed. Her mother and father were downstairs but could they really hear much through the insulation? She blasted music all the time and they didn’t complain about it. Still, to have Chat show up at her house …

               **You wish. I have work 2 do.**

**Chaton: Tease. :P**

After last time, she wanted to make sure everything was safe first. A pet scenario could take hours and depending on the bondage that could cause a lot of strain. They’d never done anything that took that long before. And to put all that effort in and have him not even like it?

               **I’m not sure about it.**

               **Chaton: About what?**

**The …**

She hesitated to even type it.

               **The bathroom parts.**

**Chaton: Meaning…?**

               **Dont make me say it.**

**Chaton: : < If you are having bathroom**

**problems you should see a doctor, bugaboo.**

Sometimes she couldn’t tell if he was obtuse or cute. Probably both.

               **Cats don’t use toilets.**

Marinette cuddled her pillow tighter, growing nervous as she waited. She didn’t want to immediately shut that down and make him feel bad if he were into it. But at the same time, she had trouble imagining them getting to such a comfortable level with each other. It felt…weird.

               **Chaton: Some cats can be trained to actually.**

**Chaton: But maybe we just have**

**bathroom breaks? I can use my safe word.**

               **Won’t that ruin teh mood?**

**Chaton: We don’t need to be hardcore, bugaboo.**

**Just take things at your own pace.**

It was miraculous how easily he could melt her worries away.

               **Ty.** **😊**

**Chaton:** **=^._.^= ∫ What did I do?**

She didn’t want to be too mushy gushy or give him any expectations and yet she could write a whole novel about the amazing things this boy had done. Instead, she typed,

               **Exist.**

Such a flirtatious and sarcastic reply should have pulled out one of his puns or a stupid string of cat emojis or some self-inflated speech about how awesome he was and how everyone should notice. But as the minutes turned into an hour and he still didn’t answer, she frowned, scrolling through their messages for the tenth time in as many minutes.

               **r u ok?**

**Chaton: Oh, yes, I’m fine. Just got preoccupied.**

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion but she decided not to press the issue. If he wanted to pretend that nothing was wrong then she’d pretend. Sometimes it seemed like the only thing she was good at.

 

\---

 

Adrien shrugged into the suit jacket, feeling suspicious as Nathalie stood in the doorway.

“But who am I meeting with?” Adrien insisted, quickly buttoning upward. Without any sort of announcement, she’d burst into his room on a Saturday morning right as he was finishing up piano practice, and handed him a tailored suit. It wasn’t like his father to make last minute plans. Any more than it was like him to interrupt Adrien’s rigorous schedule.

“I am not at liberty to say,” Nathalie answered, scrolling through her Ipad. “But your father insists that you make a good impression and do whatever is needed to sustain the agreement.”

Maybe it was a new investor. _Strange, usually Nathalie handles that sort of business._ “Shouldn’t you run me through whatever the terms of the agreement are before I do anything? I’m sure father wouldn’t approve if last minute adjustments were made to the deal.”

“He’s trusting you to make the right decisions,” Nathalie answered, gesturing for him to follow her down the stairs. “You have a good head on your shoulders, you’ll figure it out.”

Considering the way he flipped his lid over the whole interview scandal, giving Adrien executive powers seemed almost counterintuitive. Then again, this might have been his own way of trying to restore the two of them back to the status quo. Adrien was his prodigy, his perfect creation, and one couldn’t help but feel pride after such a long investment. It had been a long time since Adrien had been able to look at their relationship any other way. They’d always been distant, but with his mother gone, it became painfully clear that Gabriel Agreste was not a man of sentiment.

But he _did_ care. He wouldn’t get upset if he didn’t. 

They got in the car and Gorilla started driving. Adrien gripped his knees, trying to get his mind off the matter. He’d awkwardly texted Marinette a “ttyl” when Natalie came bursting at his door. She’d just been telling him about some fics she read where Ladybug was a forty-year man who transformed into a magic girl, her broken texts and exaggerated explanations making him almost snort water out his nose. Texting with her was amazing; she was so funny and cute and opinionated. They hadn’t been able to even see each other, let alone have another session, and yet he found himself feeling strangely satisfied.

“Something amusing?” Nathalie asked, flicking her gaze up at the mirror.

“Nothing, sorry,” he uttered, trying to school his expression. They zipped through Paris, stopping right outside Le Grande, some nameless restaurant. Adrien frowned. He _hated_ eating in front of others, especially strangers. He’d get comments about his weight, food choices, how tough it must be as a model… Then he’d have to worry about his face looked trying to stuff food, how much on his plate was acceptable, and where to even look when someone was chowing in front of you.

Natalie talked to the host and fans were already sneaking phone pictures of him from their dining tables. Adrien softened his expression, giving out that neutral smile he’d now become associated with. A waitress came to guide them but Natalie didn’t follow.

“I will be eating at a separate table. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

Now it was even weirder. At least Natalie could be trusted to communicate back and forth with his dad, or pull the leash if he spoke out of place. There was no way his father would allow Adrien such free reign over something so important.

“Are you coming?” The waitress asked nervously, playing with the menu on her lips.

“Don’t be nervous,” Natalie added, giving him a strange smile as she patted his shoulder.

_Oh no._ Natalie never smiled.

“Thanks,” Adrien smiled back, turning to follow the waitress. His heart was thumping in his chest, his fists clenched as she looked around the crowded families. _Why pick such a public place?_ His father would never dine at somewhere so “pedestrian”. He could already see people tapping on their phones to get secret pictures of him.

Then he saw her. Sitting in a booth for two.

“Adrien!” Lila waved enthusiastically, grinning. “I’m so glad you made it!”

“Your table,” the waitress said, gesturing for him to sit. Lila blocked the way, pulling him into a tight hug.

_What the hell is going on?_ It wasn’t like they were particularly close. She’d been really flirtatious when they’d first met but backed off after Ladybug had flipped her shit. Adrien still didn’t know why Ladybug hated her so much—it wasn’t like she’d been akumatized at that point—but with the way she treated Marinette there was little left to wonder. If he had had known her identity then, maybe he would have done more to help her, broken out of that pleasant empty shell that his father had worked so hard to build, actually  _said_ something to Lila. Maybe that was why Marinette hated him.

He blinked, patting her shoulder. “Uh, hi Lila. What’s up?”

“Silly,” she pulled back, playfully flicking his nose, the movement way too similar to Ladybug to feel comfortable. “ _You_ invited me, remember?”

Adrien slid into his seat, not breaking her gaze, trying to figure out what her angle was. “Right, of course. How are you today? I haven’t seen you in a long time.”

Since when did his dad talk with Lila of all people? Some of his classmates texted her but no one had seen her for months; he certainly hadn’t. Wasn’t she on some trip to Dubai?

“What would you like to drink?” The waitress asked.

“Two waters,” Lila snapped out, reaching over to touch Adrien’s hand. “I love how health conscious you are. I’m trying to be better about it myself.”

The waitress’s smile stretched further. “You two are so cute together.”

_No way._

Lila giggled, having the grace to look embarrassed. “Aww, did you hear that babe?”

_No FUCKING way._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, everyone's 'favorite' character finally joined the fray! Next chapter should be exciting!
> 
> I personally really liked this chapter. It has a lot of interesting dynamics going on. Like the fact that Marinette might actually have fallen for Adrien so much because he low-key flirts with her all the time haha. Or Adrien's daily struggle with being a famous model and his own passivity. Hope to hear some interesting thoughts!


	24. Disaster Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Minor Violence

_What the fuck am I doing?_ Marinette scolded herself, sliding into the seat opposite of Alya. The reporter was already angling her phone up from the table, enhancing the zoom on a certain celebrity classmate of theirs. Without warning, Alya had dragged her from her room, explaining that social media was blowing up about Adrien’s girlfriend and Nino had managed to get the address from him, and they didn’t have any time to lose if they were going to make it. If she were a sane person, she would have said no. But Alya hadn’t let her get in a word edgewise. 

Fuck, she hadn’t even had time to change out of her sweats.   

“Look, she’s not the _worst_  option; she's certainly better than Chloe. At least Lila is really sweet and does all that volunteer work,” Alya was chattering on, oblivious to the feeling of dread Marinette had as she awkwardly stared at her menu. “But Nino said Adrien didn’t know he was meeting her here so something interesting is happening.”

That got her attention. “Is Nino sure about that?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean anything. She’s been gone for so long; she may have wanted to surprise him. I’m more surprised his dad even sanctioned this. Doesn’t strike me as the permissive type.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Marinette murmured, finally glancing at the table. Lila was laughing that hideous laugh of hers, exaggeratedly telling some story while Adrien pushed around the food on his plate with a fork, nodding and following along. _Does he even like Lila?_ It was impossible to tell. Adrien liked everyone.

That was what she loved about him.

Her sigh drew Alya’s attention. “Girl, he may or may not be dating a chick and you are still swooning. Damn, that is a really nice suit though, he looks like James Bond, he’s so classy. Hot as hell.”

“Isn’t he?” Marinette sighed, loving the way his hair swooped over his brow. It briefly furrowed and Adrien said something, leaning back against his seat.

“Anyway, I don’t think he would lie to Nino. Maybe he is still planning on asking her out? You don't wear a suit to catch up with a classmate.”

Then Lila leaned forward, her cleavage perfectly angled over her arm as she reached for Adrien’s hand. Marinette’s heart started to crack as their gazes locked. But he quickly pulled back, barely masking the distaste on his expression as he moved his hand off the table. He looked almost … scared…

Marinette stood up.

“Girl, don’t,” Alya hissed. “We’re on recon. RECON, damn it.”

But she was already stomping over, flooding with rage, dodging the anxious waitress that tried to stop her. Lila lifted her brow, foxy-grin growing wider at Marinette’s approach. Adrien turned, surprised to see her, his eyes taking in her messy outfit and fury.  

“Greetings, Marinette. What a bold outfit,” Lila sneered, her compliment as fake as her nose ring.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, but Adrien isn’t just some toy for you to play with when you get bored Lila,” Marinette grit out, fists clenched.

“Toy? Oh, no, didn’t you hear, we’re—”

“Lila, stop,” Adrien uttered, surprising both of them. His shoulders hiked up with tension.

Lila looked between the two, her smirk getting that much uglier. “In any case, can you kindly go back to wherever you came from? This is a private lunch.”

“You’re taking advantage of the news and blackmailing him somehow, aren’t you?”

The waitress’s shaky hand grabbed her arm. “Excuse me, ma’am—”

“Oh, honey, I don’t need to blackmail boys to get them to look my way,” Lila bragged, leaning back to show off her new Chanel blouse. Or a knockoff of one. “At least I don’t go around stalking them like some sad little cave dweller.”

“There's no need to talk like that," Adrien said, staring at the growing crowd around them.

But Marinette had already heard enough. “No? All those photoshopped pictures of Dubai were probably taken from your room, right? You don’t even have the courage to show your face after being akumatized so many times and just flex your fake ass bourgeois life on social media to get attention because you never got enough from your mommy and daddy, isn’t that right Lila?”

Lila’s eyes shimmered, her face growing red. “What the hell do you know?”

The waitress faded under their shouting, “Please, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Marinette’s words were rapid fire. “Oh, go ahead, get akumatized again Lila and force yourself on him like the monster you are. Then when Ladybug saves the day you can sit there and blame it all on her because there weren’t any akumas before she showed up, were there? So that means you can run around doing whatever the hell you want!”

Lila stood up, breathing right in Marinette’s face as she grabbed a fistful of her tanktop. An akuma delicately fluttered above them, landing right on the ring on her fist.

“You get what you wish for, bitch.”

Then a flood of bats screeched into the room, surrounding them in a flurry of wings as Lila’s face elongated, fangs extending from her pump lips and her eyes glowing blood red.

“I hope Ladybug takes her sweet fucking time, Marinette. I really do.”

 

\---

 

As soon as he saw the akuma fluttering, Adrien booked it, running into the nearest bathroom, sliding shut the stall as frustration built. _What the hell was she thinking?_ Marinette _knew_ Lila was volatile, he’d _warned_ her about it, but of course she didn’t listen. Even if she was right with those horrible accusations that didn't mean you could just say that sort of thing to someone. God, once she got her justice blinders on, she became impossible to deal with.

“Have I mentioned your girlfriend is an idiot?” Plagg teased, snickering. Adrien rolled his eyes, calling for his transformation, quickly pushing past all the people running to the employee exit. He stared up at the long stairs protruding through the restaurant, leading up to the floating castle above.

It looked like something out of Castlevania. Or a horror movie.

Bats flew through the room, perching on victims, sending them attacking each other. _Another mind control akuma,_ Chat surmised, grimacing as he skirted through the lunging hands, watching the victims rapidly transforming into werebeasts. He jumped, pole vaulting up the stairs.

“Oh, Ladybug!” Lila’s voice throng out. A projection of her face appeared in the red skies, dark and vampiric amidst the clouds. “You know the drill! Give me your miraculous and I might stop myself from killing this scared little girl. We’ve got a bet going on you see: can you stop the big bad monster?”

She lifted Marinette by the throat with strange knife-like nails. Chat’s heart leapt as her legs swung helplessly and she tried to pry open Lila’s grip. In the background, he could barely make out a throne, blood red banners, and tall stained-glass windows.

 Lila zoomed back on her face, only grinning wider. “Then again, we’re all monsters, aren’t we?”

_God damn it,_ Chat sighed, fighting off assailant after assailant, trying to tell himself that their creature-like forms made it better. But it didn’t. Beneath the snarling fangs and fur were real people just trying to enjoy their day, people who would never actually hurt anyone. That was the worst part of Hawkmoth. He didn’t care who he had to tear down to get his way.

The castle gate was jammed shut but he wasn’t ready to use his cataclysm yet. Not until he knew Marinette was safe, until Ladybug _needed_ him. Lila would lose her shit if she learned the girl she held hostage was the same hero she hated. Doubtless, she’d terrorize Marinette even more with the information, blackmailing her to do god knows what. Then again, if Ladybug hadn’t been so rotten to Lila in the beginning, maybe all of this would have been avoided in the first place.

_Unless, Lila was already holding something over her,_ Chat mused, pole-vaulting onto a lower height of the ramparts. Their hatred for each other  _did_ seem personal somehow. The courtyard of the castle was filled with a congregation of transformed citizens. He had no doubt that the door they guarded held Lila. Or whatever she was calling herself this time.

Chat pole vaulted to the ceiling above, glad none of those bat things were hanging around. He climbed around, trying to avoid staring at the Parisian streets below, at the expanse of sky in front of him. He swallowed, angling to look down at the glass window, a rush of exhilaration catching him.

He remembered Ladybug’s body pressing into his, her breathy moans, the way she cried.

Then he jumped, pole vaulting straight through the window, the shattering of glass. His body propelled through the chapel like, room, crashing into a row of pews.

“Look who’s late to the party,” Lila’s voice cackled as he tried to stand up, wincing from the impact. Marinette was on the floor in front of her, battered and bruised.

_Oh my god._ He’d never seen an akuma get that level of violent with someone before; usually they got so caught up in their wants that they were dismissive of others. The way a person was dismissive to a buzzing fly. Marinette tried to stand up and Lila kicked her mid-section.

“I guess I win the bet after all,” Lila grinned, all jagged teeth. “Ladybug didn’t even bother to show up. Hey, maybe she joined my monster army, wouldn’t that be amazing? I could have your idol mindlessly kill you instead.”

“Lila, stop,” Chat demanded, slowly getting closer, baton fully drawn.

“Actually, it’s Monstra today,” She said with a shrug. “And you can’t bark orders at me; you’re as threatening as wet kitten. Though, I suppose I would be amenable if you wanted to tag team Ladybug with me. Even you must get tired of being treated like her slave. Tired of all the lies and orders. Of being on the _losing_ team. Paris needs a real hero, like Volpina.”

Chat’s eyes flickered around the arching facades, the steep windows, the chandeliers, and for the life of him couldn’t figure out a good vantage point. Not without Ladybug.

“Y’know that might be interesting,” he played along. “I’ve always wanted to be a Robin Hood type but Ladybug says stealing is a crime or whatever.”

“A hero should do what’s best for the people, not the law,” Monstra argued, fist clutching the air. Her right hand remained small and porcelain, a dark ring taking up three fingers. The same ring she’d insisted was Adrien’s gift to her when he asked her out. Man, Ladybug _may_ have been right about girls being into him, but if this was their idea of love then maybe he was better off a bachelor.

“Um, if I help you would you let that girl go? A hero isn’t really supposed to attack civilians,” Chat shot out, trying to play to her ego. Marinette was staying low, watching him with anticipation.

“This girl is the cause of at least ten akumas with her selfishness and arrogance,” Monstra growled, swiping the air above her. “If anything, we should take people like her and Chloe Bourgeois out.”

“That’s um,” Chat was almost in fighting range, ascending small half steps. “Well, I never really considered that approach before but I guess it has some merit.”

Monstra’s face flashed purple, but she ignored it. “What do you think your cataclysm is for? Actually, you know what, this is perfect. If you _really_ want to prove your loyalties to me then use it on her.”

Chat’s stomach dropped. He’d lost count of the nights he’d woken up, full sweat, watching people disintegrate on the edge of his claws, looking at him with betrayal. “That’s a bit much isn’t it?”

Monsta pointed the overly long wicked edge of a nail at him. “You’re either with me or against me.”

Chat swallowed, inching toward Marinette.

But Lila was too clever for that. “Stop. Say it first.”

He held up his paw, almost hearing Plagg’s voice telling him to stop. “…cataclysm…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this all escalated quickly. Akumas aren't my favorite thing to write but they are like 50% of the show haha. Plus, Lila just opens up so many interesting doors. 
> 
> Let me know what you guys think! Sorry it's a bit rushed.


	25. One Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Angst and Bullshit

Marinette’s whole body was throbbing with pain, her head feeling almost liquid as her hands clutched the stairs. There wasn’t any way out: Monstra would knock her down again, she had no weapon to fight with. Chat, meanwhile, was walking toward her with an overwhelmed expression, black ichor floating around his claw. Just one touch and she’d be dead.

_I’m so fucked._ It hurt to even breathe.

“Any last words Marinette?”

She leaned on her hip, staring him straight in the eye, hoping her expression showed just how sorry she was, that she knew she fucked up, that he was so, so amazing and she was a total idiot for not appreciating how often her got her out of trouble.

“Chat, this will be dangerous _floor_ all.”

Chat huffed a breath, hand trembling as he knelt in front of her. Monstra’s expression glowed with glee as he cupped her face, holding his cataclysm between them.

“Shut up and watch Hawky, this is how you get things done."

“I don’t think you appreciate the _gravity_ of the situation,” Chat whispered. 

And for once, she couldn’t even pretend to be annoyed or angry. “I trust _mew._ ”

“Do it,” Monstra demanded, hovering closer. “If she’s not going to beg, I want her dead.”

“Hey, Monstra, Are you ready for a trip?” Chat asked, turning to look at her.

Monstra’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “What?”

“See you next fall!” Then with a wink, he pressed his hand into the floor, sending the brickwork crumbling underneath them.

Marinette reached for Chat, hugging his neck as they started to freely fall amongst the collapsing castle, drowned out by the sounds of the akuma’s screams. He squeezed her tightly against his chest, his other hand reaching for his baton as she wrapped her legs around his waist. His baton hit a roof and he projected them forward, slowly softening their landing until they finally ended up behind a couple of smoke stacks. Chat was still carrying her on one side, hands cupping her bottom and head as she held her grip on his neck. Neither of them seemed willing to move.

“Put me down,” she whispered, swallowing her pride. “I have to transform.”

His voice was hoarse. “Promise me you won’t ever do that again.”

“I didn’t have a choice, she went totally mental,” Marinette argued, unwrapping her legs as her toes touched the floor. Chat’s face soured, his expression sharp and strange.

Like … like he was angry with her.

“What?” She pressed. “She totally did, okay I—”

She winced and touched her stomach, trying to stop the throbbing in her ribs. Chat grabbed the edge of her hoodie, lifting the edge over her hipbones to stare at the purple mottling along her abs, his expression murderous.

“You shouldn’t fight. You need to go to a hospital.”

The firmness of his voice, the aggression in his stance, all of it was so, so unfamiliar. _This is why he shouldn’t know my identity,_ she thought for the hundredth time. Ladybug was a hero, someone he respected and worked with. Now that she was Marinette it became suddenly okay to talk down to her like she was some sort of damsel in distress.

“Ladybug needs to take her down.”

“I’ll figure something out,” Chat uttered, flipping his baton in his hand, eyes scanning the horizon.

“What about all the people under her spell?” Marinette snapped. “Or the akuma?”

“Yeah, well maybe you should have thought about that before you bitched her out,” Chat snapped back. Marinette blinked in disbelief; her mouth snapping shut whatever reply it was trying to form. _Did…did he just curse at me?_ He dropped his gaze, taking a deep sigh.

“Just stay safe. You’re in no condition to fight right now.”

“What about you? You just jumped though a window,” Ladybug hissed, growing more annoyed. He always threw around his body like a target, not caring how or what was done to him, and yet _she_ wasn’t allowed to even be touched. “She’s counting on Ladybug not to come; didn’t you hear her? I’m not going to let her attack Paris and think she can get away with it.”

“So, what, you’ll die for your fucking ego?”

Her words jammed in her throat. Then his ring started beeping and she realized they didn’t have time to argue. She was about to say something when Tikki popped out from her jacket.

“I can heal her when she transforms,” Tikki said, floating towards Chat. “She’ll be okay.”

“Tikki?” Chat asked, his posture relaxing, brow raising in disbelief.

“The one and only,” the kwami introduced, with a twirl and a bow. “Go on, okay? You can talk later.”

Chat looked a Marinette for some sort of affirmation. “Are you sure?”

She held in the pain and nodded. “Can you keep Monstra busy?”

His ring beeped again; Chat stared down at it absentmindedly. “Yeah, fine.”

It bothered her so much, seeing him withdrawn, tense, _disappointed_ with her. Chat always built her up and supported her and the thought of him hating her made her terrified. “Th-thanks Chat.”

He walked past Tikki, moving his hand up to cup her cheek, his ring beeping by her ear. There was that older hopeless expression again, a different person, that boy who lived under the mask that she was starting to wish she knew _anything_ about. “Be safe.”

Then he kissed her forehead and leapt away, her face burning where he’d touched her.

Tikki had a wry smile but said nothing.

“Can you actually heal me?” Marinette asked, knowing how many scrapes and bruises she got from bumping into things before transformations, how mottled her legs looked in the bathroom mirror. How she was super grateful to only have minimal scarring.

“It’ll hurt less when you’re Ladybug,” Tikki sighed. _Tikki actually lied?_ For some reason she’d never thought the kwami could. “I just wish we had a better option.”

 

\---

 

Chat ducked behind an alley way, letting his transformation fade as Plagg fell in his hands.

“You’re crazy,” Plagg whined, sagging in his fingers. “I just lost one of my lives. I thought we weren’t going to be falling off tall things anymore! AND WE DID IT TWICE!!!”

“Plagg, can Tikki actually reverse injuries?”

The cat kwami stiffened in his hands before resuming his angry shouting. “You make me do all this work and give me no cheese and now you want to interrogate me? I’m offended!”

“ _Plagg…”_

“Tikki’s powers are her business. If she says she can, then she can,” Plagg mumbled, avoiding eye contact, whiskers twitching with the lie. “Besides, we don’t have time to argue. Marinette’s probably already charging at Monstra and starting another argument.”

Adrien sighed and pulled a wedge of cheese from his jacket. “Why do they hate each other so much?”

It was weird. He’d seen the way Lila’s eyes lit up when Marinette came stomping over, her grin widening like a predator that cornered its prey. She _wanted_ the argument, maybe even wanted to be akumatized and that disturbed him more than anything. Was it really all a cry for attention like Marinette so rudely claimed?

“How would I know?” Plagg asked after inhaling the wedge. Adrien had another ready for him, feeling his heart flutter with anxiety at every second wasted. “We have bigger fish to fry.”

Lila somehow had his father in her pocket and possibly had something on Marinette as well. Until he figured out some way to bring them to an understanding or help her see the light, he had no choice but to go along with her strange demands. He didn’t even know what the hell she really wanted.

_“Just pretend to date me until I call in a favor,” she had said, straw playing sultrily by her lips. “It’s not like you have a choice anyway. Not unless you want your father to know the truth.”_

“I’m so fucked,” Adrien uttered, fist clenched against his brow.

“You can say that again,” Plagg said, looking up at the bats fluttering up on the sky. Ladybug vaulted over the roofs above, trying to fight back the horde. “We need to hurry.”

The kwami blinked at him expectantly as if he hadn’t said something abnormal. But Adrien had never heard Plagg _volunteer_ to transform to Chat Noir. That, more than Tikki’s strange interference, only made the situation that much more serious.

They quickly caught up to Ladybug and Chat zoomed past her. Monstra would hound Ladybug until she destroyed her; the best bet was to keep her distracted so Ladybug could sneak in with a Lucky Charm and end the whole charade. So, Chat would do what he did best.

Be bait.

“Aww, your little pets helped you, that’s _fang_ tastic,” he teased, approaching Monstra as she lounged in the air on a throne of bats. “We still on for our deal?”

Monstra’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t need a sniveling liar serving me. You had one shot.”

Her hand outstretched and the horde started flying toward him. He ran across rooftops, trying to get closer, bashing away bats with his baton, knowing he couldn’t get enough reach with her flying. God, he hated flying akumas. It meant jumping around and falling until vertigo made his head spin.

“Was is the fall joke?” He asked, faking regret in his tone. “That was too easy, huh? I actually wanted to make a skeleton one but I wasn’t sure you’d find it _humerus._ ”

Monstra jumped away from her bats, trying to slash at him with her giant claw. “How about I rip your stupid mouth from your face?”

“How about I _marrow_ ly escape instead?”

Chat curved out of the way, hitting back some of the approaching bats. They were already surrounding him. It wouldn’t be long before he was caught. Monstra seemed to realize this too and backed off, protectively shielding her normal hand. He charged for her, not surprised at her retreat.

“Come back! You can’t skelerun from my skelepuns!”

Monstra took another slice and he extended his baton, forcing her mutated fingers to open. They tugged back and forth as she tried to break free and he tried to avoid the bats screeching at him. He felt one claw into his back, trying to sink its fangs past his collar, just as Ladybug’s yo-yo shot out and wrapped around Monstra’s wrist.  Ladybug jumped beside them pulling her string closer.

Chat’s vision began to gray.

The next thing he knew he was staring up that the sky, lying on a rooftop. He quickly sat up. Ladybug was catching her miraculous cure as Lila crossed her arms stonily. Chat walked over to them, stepping between them before Ladybug could say anything.

“I’ll take her back,” Chat interjected, trying to keep things neutral.

Ladybug sighed, her breath coming out in sharp spurts. “Are you okay?”

He had a feeling she wasn’t talking about his injuries. He put a hand on her shoulder and leaned to whisper in her ear, knowing Lila was watching the interaction. “There’s a hotel beside the restaurant she turned at. Meet me on the roof.”

She blinked, pulling back with almost concern. “Are you sure?”

“Uh, hello, I’m kind of in the middle of a date,” Lila called out, hands on her hips.

Ladybug’s face pinked with rage and Chat tightened his grip on her shoulder.

“I bet your boyfriend is really worried about you,” Chat said congenially, faking a smile. If she sensed any unfriendliness from him, she might get suspicious. With the way she was so fascinated with Adrien he wanted to keep her as far away from Chat as possible. At least he could have one part of his life to himself.

Chat held out his hand to her, not at all surprised when she wrapped her arm around his waist and pressed up against him. He didn’t miss the way cheeky smirk she left Ladybug. “Wow, you are such a gentleman, Chat Noir. Good luck saving Paris Ladybug!”

They pole vaulted off before another fight could occur and Lila, as usual, decided to paint the whole conversation with meaningless lies. She went on-and-on about how Adrien had been into her the moment they first met and how shy he had been when he asked her out. It took every ounce of willpower not to roll his eyes and sass her.

“Well, ta-ta kitty! See you next time,” Lila waved as he deposited her in front of the restaurant.

“If we’re lucky there won’t be a next time,” he muttered, tracking the rooftops for Ladybug.

Lila quirked her brow but said no more. He hoped she’d head home once she realized Adrien wasn’t returning. Doubtless, she’d show up to school again just to terrorize him there. But he didn’t want to think about tomorrow or even later tonight when his father would berate him for screwing up whatever media scandal he was trying to concoct. There was a heavy feeling in his chest, like his lungs were taking in water, and no matter how far he ran he couldn't find the air to breathe again. He knew it would probably be better if he didn’t see Marinette. Not until he calmed down enough to think of a nice way to let Ladybug know she needed to set the example as a super hero and think about things before she said them. It was vital he keep a level-head and try to listen to her frustrations about Lila so he could hopefully get some necessary information to get him out of this new Lila-shaped mess.

When he made it to the roof Marinette was leaning on the wall, forehead pressed against her arm, face tight with pain. Of course, Tikki had lied to him. Why was he even surprised? At the sound of his footsteps, she straightened out trying—and failing—to casually lean against the wall. Her hair was messily scattered around her face, purple bruising mottled underneath her eye, and her baggy jacket was barely managing to stay on her shoulder. She looked broken. It infuriated him.

“Uh, h-hey Chat, I, uh, need to catch up with Alya so maybe we should just text—”

He put a hand on her shoulder, silencing her nervous dialogue.

“We need to talk now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uh ... yeah this chapter got real heavy fam. Unfortunately, Lila has lived to see another day. But we made it 25 chapters in! Woohoo! 
> 
> Maybe we'll finally see that assertive side of Chat everyone has been waiting for :D
> 
> Any guesses on what Lila is blackmailing Adrien with?


	26. Wounded Heart

Marinette stared up at Chat’s green eyes with growing panic. Yeah, she’d been around him as a civilian before but he hadn’t known who she was then. It was terrifying to have him staring down at her, calling her name, wearing that torn expression that reminded her that someone underneath the mask existed. Someone with his own life and friends and hobbies that walked in the same halls as her and thought about her when they shared passing glances. Someone  who knew every dark secret about her.  _Damn it, Tikki! What’s taking so long?_ Tikki detransformed them the moment they touched the roof and then quickly flew off, looking for some sort of sustenance since Marinette forgot to bring her purse. She’d said she’d be back before Chat showed up. If she were Ladybug she would know what to say. But now...

“Chat, can’t we wait until Tikki—”

He scowled. “What? You can’t talk to me unless you have a mask on your face?”

“N-no that’s not it. But someone might see and there might be reporters still around.”

Chat sighed, releasing her shoulder. “I think I saw a storage shed over there.”

He hiked his thumb away from the access stair and she followed, wringing her fingers nervously underneath her long sleeves. She’d been so mad when she had snapped at Lila that she hadn’t even registered that Adrien had seen her in her pajamas without make-up _AND_ he’d seen her being a colossal bitch at his date. If he hadn’t hated her before, he certainly did now. But part of her had felt some relief in that. The separation between them would become something unsolvable, something that she could finally step away from and release. Yet, here she was with Chat, exposed and vulnerable, and all she could feel was an increasing dread. Ladybug was supposed to be perfect and heroic. On top of that, she was his dom. She _was_ supposed to make the right decision and take care of him. Instead, she’d almost gotten both of them killed.

Chat broke through the chain lock with his extended baton and turned around. “After you, my lady.”

He opened the door and flicked on a switch, the dingy florescent brightening shelves of tools and dust. A faint electrical hum vibrated off the walls. But he didn’t even look in the room. Instead, his eyes were riveted on her, taking in all her bruises and flaws.

“Tikki lied to me,” Chat started, as she found an uncomfortable bucket to sit on. “I didn’t know she had it in her. Plagg told me she was a goody-two-shoes.”

“She is,” Marinette answered, trying to keep her voice from pitching too high. “But she’s always thinking of everyone and everything. We needed to save the city first.”

His glare was unsettling. “And yelling at Lila and akumatizing her was the way to do that?”

“You saw that?” Marinette grimaced, gripping her knees. “Look, I know I said some awful things, but she couldn’t possibly be up to any good. She WANTS to be an akuma. Doesn’t that bother you?”

Chat leaned against the door, gripping his elbows tightly, face tight. “She was just on a date, Marinette. She didn’t do anything to anyone.”

God damn it, he was probally right. But of course, it didn’t bother him that Adrien had Lila latched on to him. It meant his competition was gone. “Oh, come on; it’s not like she actually cares about Adrien!”

“Right, of course not, why would she…” Chat said lowly, his tail twitching with irritation. Marinette guessed, since they never actually talked about it, that he disliked Adrien. Whenever anyone brought him up—which was surprisingly often—he changed the subject. But  _seeing_ the tension in his face was unnerving. He looked bitter and cold. So different from his optimistic self,

“She’s just trying to use him.”

Chat’s ears flattened. “So, what if Lila was trying to get attention and found a rich boyfriend? It’s not your business, is it? Do you really hate her so much that you have to attack her in public?”

“Look, I know I was stupid,” Marinette confessed, feeling achy and tired. “I’m sorry.”

Chat wasn’t even looking at her. “You shouldn’t say those kinds of things to anyone. Even if you do hate them. You’re only going to make Lila lash out at you more.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, bowing her head. “I just wanted to help Adrien.”

Predictably, Chat didn’t respond to that. Marinette nervously raised her head, ducking back down when she met his laser-focused gaze. “Why?”

Oh man, whenever she talked about Adrien she turned into a total fangirl. _I gotta change the subject before he gets even more upset._ “It was the right thing to do.”

Another tense silence built. “How did you know he wanted help?”

“He looked …” Marinette trailed off, not wanting to confess that he reminded her of those moments in their sessions where she pushed Chat too hard. When he shut down and stiffened, eyes staring at nothing and words disappearing. “Chat, can we not talk about Adrien anymore?”

“Why are you avoiding the question?”

“You _know_ why,” Marinette said breathily, feeling more and more nervous.

She looked up again and Chat was leaning over her, his eyes looking almost predatory.

“Do I?”

All she knew was that this interrogation needed to stop. Before she could weigh the consequences of her actions she already had blurted out,

“Red.”

 

\---

 

Maybe there was some small part of him that knew all of this had been a bad idea from the start. Risking his life to get the attention of his super hero partner, pining over a girl that hated him, basically spending every day doing all the things his father had ever forbidden him to do. But he had thought it didn’t really matter as long as he was happy. That he _deserved_ to be happy, despite his own doubts. Did he know why Marinette hated him so much? No, and if she were so desperate to keep it a secret that she would use the safe words she’d been insisting she didn’t need, then he had a feeling he’d never know. But damn that hurt. What the hell had he done that was so wrong?

And why did he find himself pushing closer? “Are we in a session right now?”

Marinette sucked in a breath, her eyes big and vulnerable. “Do you want to be?”

That was pretty much the last thing on his mind right now, which really said a lot since it was all he had been thinking about the past week. “Are you trying to distract me with sex?”

Marinette’s whole face flooded red as she flailed, “Ohmigod, th-that not what I meant, not that I dislike se— I mean, we haven’t, it’s just …. Oh god.”

She put her hands over her face and whined. It was almost surreal to see her like this as Chat. If he were Adrien, she’d been running down the hall, trying to get back to Alya so she could rant about whatever transgression he committed. But he’d never suspected she also got tongue-tied when nervous.

“I was just teasing you, Bugaboo,” he eased, petting her hair. “I knew what you meant.”

For once it was loose and free and he found his claws lingering, enjoying the silky feeling against leather. She looked soft and sensual with her hair down and without make-up her cheeks were dusted with extra freckles, her lips were soft and plush. Just seeing her like this felt special. He hadn’t realized her dark locks curled or that they swooped over her shoulders.  Or that she would sit there quietly and let him pet her. For some inexplicable reason touching her, maybe reaffirming her existence, filled his anxious heart with relief.

“You seem … not mad anymore,” Marinette observed, watching him.

“I can never stay mad at you,” he answered, cupping her jaw. “But I will always stay mad _about_ you.”

Marinette ducked out of his hold, growing even redder. “Y-you’re stupid.”

Chat was about to deliver a great pun about donuts and butter when she winced again, touching that same spot on her stomach.

“Let me take you to a hospital,” he offered, holding out his hand.

She brushed it away.

“I’m fine. Tikki’s is probably looking for me. I’ll just go home and sleep it off.”

Chat took a deep breath, trying his best to remain sensible. “You need medical treatment.”

“It’s just some bruises okay? Back off!”

How ironic that she lie straight to his face after telling him how much she hated liars. Part of him wanted to just throw her over his shoulder and be done with this. But he knew he should reason with her. Forcing her wouldn’t solve anything and he already had a list of logical things to convince her with:

  1. I’ll let Alya and your family know where you are
  2. Everyone on TV saw Monstra attack you so no one will think you were Ladybug
  3. People are going to ask you a whole bunch of questions if you go back
  4. I will pay your medical expenses if money is an issue
  5. This is how I show my love, just accept the fact that I need to take care of you.



Yet, the devilish part of him followed her bluff, demanding, “Just bruises, huh? Prove it to me.”

 

\---

 

Marinette wondered if Lila hit her so hard enough to make her hallucinate. Or maybe she was still in her bed sleeping and this whole thing had been a fevered dream. Because there was no way that Chat was propositioning her to strip. Especially in these circumstances. _Dang, if this is all a dream, at least make it a sexy one, what the hell?_

It took her way too long to speak. “I-I’m sorry, what?”

“I am pretty good at first aid,” Chat said innocently, even as his smirk widened. “Let me see.”

Marinette pushed two fingers against his chest. “You wish, pervert.”

“Pervert?” Chat repeated theatrically, taken aback. “I’m just doing my duty as a superhero. I thought you looked like you needed help. What were _you_ thinking about, Marinette?”

The way he purred her name, inches from her lips, made her breath stop. She ducked her flaming face down, heart racing.

“I w-wasn’t thinking about anything.”

“Oh?”

Chat lifted her chin, his gaze so focused as his fingers traced the bruise forming under her eye. Light as air, his touch trailed down her cheek, lingered at the top of her neck, then slid on her bared shoulder. The movement was slow and languid, leaving her skin feeling expose and tingly. 

“St-stop,” she whispered, trembling.

“Rule Three,” he answered, even as he pulled his hand away. “Will you take off your jacket?”

The question was gentle and she knew, deep down, he was only trying to make sure she was okay. He could have demanded her obedience. Or argued that he was entitled to it since he saved her life. The rules of their game were clear and yet he waited. Was this supposed to be his reward? Or her punishment?

Did it matter?

“You aren’t going to make me?” She asked defiantly, testing him.

“I wont,” he said softly, brushing her hair as if she were made of glass.

“No threats or orders?”

“I don’t need them.” He rose up, pulling away just enough to kiss the crown of her head. So, so slowly, he moved back, staring down at her with that almost wistful smile.

Her heart was faster than a hummingbird. “Why?”

“Because you want me to see you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn teenagers. Barely alone and they are already back to their games haha. Anyone else excited for gentle dom Chat?
> 
> Their conversation is littered with unanswered assumptions and hints. Let's see what truths they uncover this time.
> 
> Thank you guys for the continued support and reading! I was flattered by all the response to the last chapter. I can only hope the story continues to keep everyone entertained and excited :>.


	27. Heart Bared

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Intense longing and Borderline Smut

Chat watched her and his heart twisted. She looked so small and fragile, her nerves almost turning into fear. He didn’t want her to ever be afraid of him. It made him want to take back his goading, make a light-hearted joke, and be done with it. Part of him had been serious, sure, but he’d really thought she’d just laugh and brush it off. Not unzip her jacket. Her hand pulled the metal tab so slowly that the zipper was silent. The way her over-sized sleeve covered her palms made her fingers look almost childlike. Her hair obscured her expression as she shyly lowered her face. The pink of her tank-top created a small strip beneath her black jacket. Then her hands fell on her lap and she waited. Should he praise her for getting that far? Did she _want_ him to push her?

“I can’t really see anything,” he answered neutrally, crossing his arms over his chest.

Outside, he was sure, he looked casual. Indolent even. But his heart was threatening to burst from his chest. They were already crossing enough lines talking to each other without her mask. He hadn’t expected her to take off sprinting.

“There’s not really anything to see,” she said quietly.

It was likely she was talking about the bruises. Then again, he sensed something deeper to the dejection of her tone. Something he wanted to quash right away. “Trust me. That’s not true.”

Marinette blinked through the fringe of her messy hair, then ducked down again.

Maybe he was still angry about the things she said about him. Or maybe he was trying to push her. But he found himself coldly saying, “We could always talk more about Adrien.”

_Please, talk about me,_ he silently begged. What had she seen that let her know he was in trouble? Why was she so unwilling to talk about him? What had he done wrong?

Marinette’s brow was furrowed. “Why?”

He had to admit it probably seemed weird from her perspective: why would he prefer talking about a male classmate over watching his sort-of-girlfriend strip? _Play it cool man._

“Why not?”

Her lips pursed. “It doesn’t seem appropriate.”

“Neither does this,” he gestured, wagging his eyebrows in pretend amusement.

“He…” She trailed off, fingers clutching her jacket. “I’ve never been able to talk to him.”

Chat had to bit his lip to keep from retorting, _“Yeah, you’ve made that pretty clear.”_ It wasn’t worth the moment of satisfaction, not when he could finally make whatever connection he was missing. With a deep sigh, a desperate attempt to sound relaxed, he summoned up the courage to ask, “Why can’t you talk to him?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Marinette huffed, looking frustrated. “I get … nervous …”

Her voice was so meek, completely juxtaposed from the righteous rage he imagined in her. It almost made him scared. Anger was fleeting: he could apologize, he could change, he could correct whatever wrong he had committed against her if she would just _tell_ him. But what did he do with this? Marinette was fidgeting in her seat, repeatedly giving him glances, seeming to wait for the reaction he didn’t know how to give. If there was one thing he had learned as a model it was how to appear blank, to sit there perfect and serene when hell reigned within.

_“Come on, Adrien. She can’t even tolerate being in the same room with you.”_

“I’m not …” Marinette started, playing with her bottom lip. He could see the red marks, immediately wanted to kiss them away and stop whatever sentence she’d condemn him to.

“ _You_ don’t make me nervous.”

 

\---

 

Marinette thought she might pass out. There definitely wasn’t enough air in this tiny room. It was way too warm for her sweats and Chat was scarily shutting down again and she wasn’t even doing anything to him. If anything, _she_ should become panicked. Because there was no way he couldn’t understand what she was telling him. No way that he didn’t realize what that meant.

“I see,” he finally uttered, releasing that stiff smile. The one that said everything was alright when everything was obviously falling apart. How many times would she force that on him?

“I’m not the best at…” She trailed off again, gesturing emptily with her hands. It was difficult, putting her issues into words, but she knew she needed to try. She _wanted_ him to understand. “I suck at talking. I just blurt things out sometimes and I don’t think I’ve said anything but then people get upset anyway and I don’t understand the difference and it makes me … nervous.”

“But I don’t make you nervous?” Chat said slowly, staring off to the side in deep thought.

“No.”

“Not even a little?” The smirk on his face was playful, his eyes almost dancing and she knew he’d pulled himself out of whatever storm was brewing in his head. It made her feel relaxed, made her want to keep going. Seeing the life slowly flicker back in his eyes made all the blustering and humiliation worth it.

Marinette released a huff of relief, barely containing her own smile. “Maybe a little.”

“A good kind of nervous though, right?”

Marinette held in a laugh, knowing it would just hurt. “Is there a good kind?”

Chat’s eyes flickered to her chest. “Want to find out?”

Maybe it was reckless of her but she found herself wanting to serve back his passes. To get as far away from everything happening outside of this room as possible. She leaned back, letting the jacket drape off her left shoulder. “What do you have in mind?”

His eyes zeroed in on her exposed skin slowly undressing her, lingering on her breast, then slowly back to her face. His pupils were dark and large, like a cat in the night, his breaths small.

His voice was like silk. “Keep going and find out.”

Desire pooled in her stomach, mixing with butterflies and anxieties, as she pulled out one arm. Her skin felt prickly, like each cell was alive and dancing with the air that touched it. They never dropped each other’s gaze as she finished removing the jacket and dropped it on the ground. His eyes glided over the bruise on her forearm, a tight frown forming, tracing the path of Monstra’s fingers. She shivered as those eyes slowly roved her chest, dark and green and lingering.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”

“It’s not your fault," she answered firmly.

“I didn’t realize how toned your arms are. You’re always covering them up.”

A trickle of insecurity rode down her back. The last time she’d worn a dress, muscular and flat, her friends had joked around that she might pull off the tux better. Everyone liked her better when she was cute and tiny and swimming in oversized clothing. But, for her, clothing was like a microscope for everything true about a person. She designed with lines and curves with the intention of bringing a model to life. Everyday she swallowed that mixture of anxiety and pride, settling between a subtle cute and quiet strength. Because boys didn't like strong, outspoken girls. 

“I bet you could totally carry me,” he murmured, tilting his head. She’d overhead boys talking about Ladybug before, how could she not, but when they talked about the fact, she could bench press them it was hard to tell if they were aroused or disgusted. Chat looked almost ... excited.

“I have," she teased, sliding her fingers on her bicep as she flexed for him. 

His eyes were wicked. “That’s sexy as hell. I bet you have a six pack too.”

His praise almost made her feel giddy and her fingers traced the edge of her tank top provocatively. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

He swallowed as she traced up her stomach, subtly arching her back with the motion.

“You aren’t wearing a bra,” he whispered, lifting his hand to his mouth. Her breasts were so small that she hadn’t thought he would notice but now he seemed like he couldn't even look away. It made her feel just as sexy as he seemed to think she was. She’d always been jealous of well-formed girls like Alya, wishing she didn’t look like a child and that people would take her more seriously. But the way Chat was looking at her, like she had turned his entire world upside down, she couldn’t doubt that he was anything but serious. It made her feel beautiful.

“Must have slipped my mind,” she teased, casually brushing her hand against a pert nipple.

 

\---

 

_Fuck,_ Chat thought, trying to resist every urge in his mind to step forward and touch her. She had no idea how much he fantasized about those breasts, how much he wanted to fondle and lick them, how frequently they haunted his thoughts. Her normal suit left nothing to imagination—for god’s sake, they jiggled when she ran— it drove him crazy thinking someone else might notice. The first time they’d fought an akuma near the Seine she’d pulled herself out of the river, suit tight and clinging, nipples erect beneath spandex as she brushed her hair back from her face and he’d been a total goner. Instead, of their usual fist bump, he’d ran home and into a warm shower, almost as guilty as he had been aroused, shaking from a cocktail of pleasure and shame.

Suffice it to say, those cute perky breasts made his job extremely hard.

Her nipples were pushing insistently against her tank and he _knew_ the room was warm enough that it could only be from her arousal. Seeing the evidence, knowing these reactions were not just a bi-product of wishful thinking or some strange obligation she felt to him, send thrills of excitement racing through him. It made him wonder if this was the same sort of excitement that she’d felt when she’d first seen his hard-on that night under the streetlight. It made him wonder how she'd gotten the strength to touch him or to stop. 

“Chat?” Marinette asked, crossing one leg over the other. “You’ve gotten quiet.”

“You’re killing me,” he whispered, voice hoarse. His tongue ran against the backs of his teeth, desperate to know what she would feel like between his lips. Her eyes slowly wavered to his cock, brows lifting as she noticed his hard-on.

“You started it.”

It killed him that he had to end it. But, damn, the romantic in his heart wanted something more then a quick flint in a storage closet on a roof. He wanted to take his time exploring every crevice and secret she offered him, make her cheeks flush and her heart race just as hard as his was. He wanted to pull her apart piece by piece, watch her dissolve into pleasured moans, melt in his arms before finding herself again, become as addicted to him as he was to her. But he knew that was his anxieties speaking,  _knew_ he was just pushing her because he wanted things she couldn't give. It was selfish and it was wrong. Her health was more important to him then the wound in his heart this would balm.

“I want to make sure you’re okay first.”

Marinette frowned. “I don’t like hospitals.”

“Hospitals suck," he agreed. "But you need to go.”

“Even,” she trailed off, biting her lip again, “if it means we have to stop?”

Chat's voice was hard as he used every ounce of willpower to say, “I don’t want to think about Monstra the first time you let me see you.”

Something about that seemed to shake her. “Okay.”

He crept forward, looking temptation in the eye, like a traveler resisting the mirage of a far-off oasis flickering on sunlight. “Does it hurt to breathe? You don’t think she cracked a rib, did she?”

“I don’t know. I just feel sore.”

Chat picked up her jacket off the floor, handing it back to her, taking in the beautiful swirls of freckles on her shoulders. The curves of her neck and clavicle. “Here.”

Instead of grabbing the jacket, she moved closer, holding out her arms. He took the unspoken invitation, drawing the sleeve over her bruises, dressing her in silent torture. His hands trembled on the zipper as he tried to join both ends, his face burning as she watched him. He zipped her up and kissed her forehead, enjoying the way her breath always seemed to catch when he did that.

The tears in her eyes surprised him.

“You’re too nice,” she mumbled, wiping a sleeve against her face.

“Come here,” he invited, opening his arms. Without hesitation, she embraced him, tucking his face against his shoulder as they perfectly molded together. His heart sung. 

“It’s okay, Mari.”

“You aren’t mad anymore, are you?”

“I’m not mad,” he soothed in her ear, stroking her hair. He didn’t know how much time passed until their breathing calmed and she relaxed against him. Marinette made no comment on his fading arousal and he lifted her off her feet, enjoying the way her tiny body fit against his torso.

Tikki was waiting for them outside.

“Is she okay?” the Kwami asked, flitting around Marinette’s drowsy face.

“Just tired,” she answered, her sleepy voice soothing him. “But I’ll sleep it off.”

“I’m taking her to a hospital,” he said firmly, still not sure where he and this creature stood. She was incredibly cute. But so was Plagg in his weird anime mascot way and even though Plagg stunk of cheese and was obnoxiously self centered,  _he'd_ never tricked him into anything. 

Tikki nodded to herself, pensively holding her face in her paw. “I thought you might decide that. I’m glad I didn’t interrupt you.”

“Why did you lie to me?” he asked carefully, as Tikki flew into Marinette’s hood. The kwami settled against her chosen’s cheek, peering up at him.

“The akuma needed to be stopped. Ladybug’s duty is to purify akuma and protect the city.”

Chat felt his jaw tick. “At the expense of her life?”

“She’s safer in the suit than out of it,” Tikki replied calmly. It made him wonder. Plagg never forced him to be Chat Noir. The two of them knew akuma needed to be dealt with but if Adrien wanted out Plagg would let him. Plagg had made it extremely clear that his safety and health had always been more important than whatever mischief Hawkmoth was getting up to. Hell, if he were actually in danger Plagg would defend him to the death with just his tiny body and grit. He’d never stopped to think about Ladybug’s relationship with her kwami. All those rules about being Ladybug, all the pressure she stacked on them, he’d thought it was just her dutiful personality, but was Tikki exacerbating that? 

“She’s safer not fighting akuma at all.”

“Stop fighting,” Marinette grumbled, adjusting her grip on him. “I was stupid and shouldn’t have bothered Lila. Ladybug has a duty to keep Paris safe. You’re both right and I’m stuck going to a hospital even though I don’t want to go. Happy?”

Chat couldn’t help but smile at her grumpy tone.

“Sounds good to me,” Tikki chirped, smiling just as brightly as he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, Dom Chat got overtaken by MOM Chat (OTL writing this fic is turning me into the type of person who makes dad jokes). I know we were expecting a scene, which I guess we sorta got, but I'm happier with what we got. Dom Chat will come back, don't worry. 
> 
> Marinette confessed! Sort of, not really, she tried... BUT she tried to tell him she likes him more than Adrien!!! If only he knew!
> 
> Ugh, writing about boobs is hard. Boobs sounds juvenile, breasts makes me think of cooking, mammaries is scientific and nipple is just a funny sounding word haha. I hope I was able to make this sort of sexy?
> 
> Tikki is great and awesome and this fic isn't villainizing her. Chat is just really protective and angsty.


	28. Recovery Room

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Chloe Bourgeois

Marinette wheezed as Alya’s octopus grip tried to suck the life out of her.

“GURL, I THOUGHT YOU DIED!” She cried in her ear. Marinette winced and she pulled back. “Oh, shit, are you okay, did I make it worse?!”

“I’m fine,” Marinette managed, rubbing her chest. Chat, somehow, had been right about her ribs being injured. Luck—or maybe Tikki’s power—left it so that the bone had a hairline fracture. The doctors were amazed after seeing the damage from the news reels. After a tons of pain meds and another day at the hospital she’d be right back at it. No physical activity for two weeks just to be on the safe side. Somehow, she had a feeling Hawkmoth wouldn’t be that lenient.

“You didn’t answer your phone and no one had seen you! Ladybug and Chat Noir also disappeared! It was so freaky! Lila insisted that Chat Noir dropped her off himself and that he and Ladybug were arguing but I wasn’t sure girl, I’ve never seen the two of them not get along.”

That was so on the nose it made Marinette anxious. Lila was far too observant for own damn good. Who knew what she could do with that information. “I’m sure they are fine.”

“Yeah, it all makes sense _now._ I didn’t realize how cool Chat was,” Alya gushed, eyes shining with admiration. “I can’t believe he carried you all the way here! How was it being up close and personal with one of Paris’s greatest superheroes?”

Marinette glowered at the phone Alya was madly typing on, wondering if the light in the corner was actually blinking for record. “Are you serious?”

“Gurl, I’m not finna put my best friend on the web while she looks like she got hit by a car,” Alya snapped, looking defensive. “I just took a couple pictures…”

“Delete them!” Marinette squealed, trying to take the phone. Just as a nurse peeked in and gave them a death glare, she felt her chest throb again. Alya gave her an awkward wave and then handed Marinette the phone to show her the Instagram worthy pictures she’d taken of the flowers at her bedside. She’d already installed a color enhancing filter and a small text that said,

**Suave Chat leaves flowers for beautiful damsel~**

“What? He never gets _me_ flowers,” Alya protested at Marinette’s dead look. “I get attacked by akumas all the time, and yeah I don’t end up in the hospital, but I AM keeping them alive in the media.”

“Then tell Nino to get you flowers, geez,” Marinette snarked, rolling her eyes. Honestly, she had no idea how he had even found the time. She’d been in so much pain that she’d finally passed on Chat’s shoulder in the emergency waiting room. By the time the doctor had woken her up and handed her the phone to talk to her parents, she’d learned that Chat had somehow taken care of all of her medical paperwork _and_ expenses. Alya had only gotten here before everyone else because Chat had personally called her on his communicator to make sure she didn’t wake up alone.

“First your internet boyfriend, now Chat Noir,” Alya listed, smirk growing wide. “Damn, Mari you bring all the boys to the yard. What are you gonna do if Adrien brings you flowers?”

Marinette felt her cheeks get pink. Damn Chat and his strange obsession with flowers. The vase was full of white and red daisies—strangely reminiscent of Ladybug—and the note he’d left with them had been quickly stuffed under her pillow.

_Sorry I couldn’t stay with you. I’ll check on you as soon as possible. It’s probably best if you stay away from news outlets or social media. I’m taking care of it. Don’t stress._

Alya had already shown her multiple pictures of Chat carrying her around. Thank god she’d pulled her hood up and her face was hidden. It did make her curious though. There wasn’t anything particularly noteworthy for him to warn her about. Then again, it was hard to tell what tomorrow would bring.

“The whole class is probably going to stop by after school, just be prepared,” Alya warned, knowing how Marinette felt about sudden attention. “They are planning something super cute.”

“…is Adrien going to be there?” Marinette asked, fiddling with her fingers. She didn’t know how to face him after she’d behaved. Or looking this terrible.

“I don’t know; Nino said he’s been AWOL. Usually he responds to texts, but nothing,” Alya frowned, looking thoughtful. “His father is probably upset about the whole Lila thing. I have a feeling he wasn’t supposed to be dating someone on the sly.”

“If they actually are dating,” Marinette snorted, remembering how distant they were at their table.

“Hey, I know you aren’t super cool with Lila, especially considering what happened, but we still don’t know what’s going on with them. I hate to say it but if they actually are dating, you’re going to have to learn to accept her. When I was interviewing her, she made it sound like they’d been dating not long after her transfer. One of the reasons she’s been gone so often is because she can’t handle the pressure of having to pretend she doesn’t care for him. She’s had it really hard.”

It was impossible to hide her own derision. “Oh really?”

Tikki, nestled between the flower buds as she absentmindedly nibbled on their leaves was no doubt sending her judgmental looks. They hadn’t had a chance to talk it out but she had a feeling that Tikki was less than happy with how everything went down. After all, Ladybug was supposed to be part of the solution, not the problem.

“Yes, really,” Alya mimicked, lowering her voice in a sour tone. “I don’t think Adrien is the type to lead a girl on like that. But I do know that some girls can get a bit … delusional with celebrity boys.”

“I’m crazy,” Marinette deadpanned. “You can just say it.”

“Girl, you are crazy but that has nothing to do with Adrien,” Alya teased. Marinette grabbed a pillow to hit her with and she laughed, trying to block the blows with her hands. “Okay, you aren’t crazy! I take it back! Stop, stop, you’re gonna pop a stitch!”

“Lucky for me, I don’t have stitches!”

“If you’re this lively, you must be doing better than I thought,” her mom said in the doorway, startling them. Behind her the same nurse’s lips were tight and sour. Sabine walked up and grabbed Marinette’s toes playfully. “The doctor already ran us through your medical report.”

“MY PRECIOUS BABY!!!” Her dad cried, rushing in after her. Sabine blocked him from the bed, looking up at her giant husband with a firm look. Marinette tried not to laugh as her dad pouted and sat in one of the chairs. “I know you said not to hug her but she just looks so sad.”

“How bad does it hurt, honey?” Sabine asked as she sympathetically patted her husband’s shoulder.

“Honestly, I feel fine,” Marinette answered with a big smile. The pain in her ribs had mostly receded and all the of the stress and anger seemed to have washed away. Most of that was probably the pain drugs but, hey, she’d take what she could get. “You think I can go back to school after tomorrow?”

“You’re going to stay home with me and stay away from that awful classmate of yours,” Tom fumed, crossing his arms. “How dare she hurt my daughter! And how dare Ladybug take so long to show up! She's supposed to keep people safe from akuma attacks; not leave them vulnerable!”

Marinette was used to her father’s mercurial moods but it was a bit shocking seeing him angry at Ladybug; it was almost like he was angry at _her_. It never happened so she didn’t know how she would ever deal with it. When she was younger she found it extremely frustrating. She never knew if she was in trouble or wrong because he would just make that sad face of his and send her mom to quietly deal with it. Sabine never yelled or acted unfairly either and it was rare Tom was around her if his emotions got the better of him. It made her feel like she was sitting on the edge of her seat, waiting to figure out what would give, never knowing what until she finally fell over.

“You can’t talk,” Sabine snapped, slapping his arm. “You attacked our daughter as an akuma.”

Tom started to tear up again and Alya shot Marinette an uneasy look as if she were asking for a route of escape.

“I only wanted to protect her!”

“Yes, yes, honey, I know,” Sabine answered, patting his head. “We’re just glad she’s okay now, _right_?”

“Of course,” Tom smiled, redirecting himself to Marinette. “So, kid, what do you want me to sneak in? Macaroons? Crepes? Hospital food is terrible and I won’t let my daughter suffer through any of that tasteless garbage. Just say the word and I’m there.”

“Dad, I’m not allowed to eat solids today,” Marinette informed, holding back a smile.

It was strange really. She should be miserable after what happened. But spending the evening with her family cheering her up only made her happy and relaxed. The room was full of a peaceful glow and thoughts of tomorrow seemed to melt away from her mind. When they left and the lights turned off, she found herself staring out the window, falling asleep to the soft petals of daisies.

 

\---

 

Adrien knew he should go find Lila and make sure she wasn’t creating some new media disaster. He knew he should go home and confront his father about that horrible set up. He knew if he just sat Natalie down, she might give him the answers he needed and they could work out some sort of compromise together. He knew all of it and yet he found himself wanting to stay as far away from the pressure as possible. Adrien _thought_ he should feel relaxed. Marinette was safe and cared for in the hospital, probably spending time with her family, and trying to make excuses for her flowers. At the end of the day he was just Chat Noir. He imagined her family together with her, warm and happy, so different from his own broken family, and he knew he could not intrude on them.

Which was why he found himself being ushered in Le Grande Paris by Butler Jean.

“What a pleasant surprise!” The butler was gushing as the elevator moved up. “Chloe will be so happy that you are visiting her. She was quite worried after what happened to you today. The young miss has been beside herself following the news but everyone says you went missing.”

Probably because he saw the opportunity to lose his GPS-tracked phone in the chaos and he took it. It also helped that he could prowl around rooftops as Chat Noir.

“Not missing, just a little lost,” Adrien eased, crafting the lie. “My phone got destroyed so I didn’t know where I was but then I saw Le Grande.”

“Oh, of course,” Jean hummed. “I shall call your father right away.”

Adrien almost grabbed his arm to keep him from reaching for his phone. “Actually, can you wait on that a bit? I did want to talk to Chloe before I leave. It’s been a long time since we’ve hung out.”

Jean smiled brightly. “Oh, of course, the young miss will be thrilled.”

Although he and Chloe had been super close growing up, mostly because his father couldn’t accuse her of trying to get close to him to steal his money, there had been a subtle ban on her after his mother disappeared. Considering how flamboyant the Bourgeois were, it only made sense his father wanted as little a public relationship with them as possible. Adrien was happy they at least got to go to the same school together but with the way things were now, it seemed like they’d never go back to the friendship they used to share.

Chloe surprised him by answering the door in a ladybug printed kimono.

“JEAN! I thought I told you Sabrina and I were—OH EM GEE ADRIKINS!”

She rushed into his arms. “I thought you were DEAD! Good job answering my texts!”

“My phone got crushed,” he replied, weirded out by how much happier he got each time he spout that lie. Chloe pulled him by the arms and ushered him in, talking nonstop about the akuma fight.

“Like, puh-lease, who is this nobody anyway to think she can just threaten Ladybug and tell everyone you belong to her. If I were Ladybug, I would have clocked her in the face; what a total bitch. Who the hell is this gubby little nobody anyway? She’s all over twitter but, seriously, I don’t recognize her.”

“She’s our classmate, Chloe,” Adrien snorted. “Lila. Lila Rossi? Ring any bells?”

Chloe furrowed her brow and tapped her pale pink lips. “Never heard of her.”

“She’s …um…usually volunteering,” Sabrina whispered, causing Adrien to jump. The shy redhead was awkwardly sitting out a lounge, blinking at the floor and occasionally staring at him in disbelief. He had never had a chance to really talk to her but, then again, he hadn’t really spent too much one-on-one time with any of his classmates. Except for Nino.

“Oh, la, I don’t actually care who she is,” Chloe snapped, throwing her arms up in the air and falling down into one of her plush chairs. “Just tell me all about what happened. Jean get some desserts and another bottle of champagne, please.”

The butler swiftly left, leaving Adrien standing in a hotel suite with two girls in slightly risqué silk robes. Adrien wondered if they were painting their nails and gossiping about boys like the girls do on T.V. Sleepovers were like the coolest thing ever in movies and he’d always wanted to go to one. He looked around for the typical magazines and beauty supplies but the room was abnormally bare.

“Well, don’t just stand there. Sit down and tell us all about it!”

Sabrina’s brow was furrowed and Adrien was starting to get the feeling he had intruded on something important. “I can always come back another time?”

“No, you can’t,” Chloe retorted, and damn she was right. Adrien sat down, nervously touching his hands on his knees. Now that he was here, he wasn’t sure what exactly he wanted.

“So, uh, yeah Lila kind of turned into an akuma and the whole restaurant got wrecked and—”

“Oh, no, start at the beginning,” Chloe demanded, waving her hand. “Why were you with her in the first place? And why is she insisting she’s your girlfriend?”

“It’s a long story,” he hedged, growing more uneasy underneath their relenting stares. There were too many variables, too many secrets to keep. “I, um, do you think you could keep this between us?”

Chloe had the grace to look affronted. “Adrikins, you know any secret of yours is a secret of mine and NOBODY knows my secrets. Isn’t that right Sabrina?”

Sabrina nodded and started standing up, “I can leave so you can talk—”

Chloe grabbed her wrist. Her voice was like steel. “Sit.”

Adrien raised a brow. Sabrina sat, fiddling with her glasses, looking just as anxious as he felt. But he thought about the way Ladybug had cornered him in their last session, pulling the truth from him, demanding he tell her what was going on in his head. He thought of Plagg’s constant teasing, littered with a hint of serious suggestion, tell him he needed to talk to someone instead of just losing sleep. He thought about texting Marinette and how he’d freeze up and just leave the phone, trying to find some way to be the jokester she expected him to be. He thought about all of that and the weight of world on his shoulders and how deep down he knew, it wasn’t right, he wasn’t getting better, and he needed to actually put some of himself out there if he wanted people to see him.

Determinedly he edited through his experience, starting with the sudden restaurant rendezvous, Natalie’s cryptic responses, Lila’s sudden declaration, and finally the blackmail.

Chloe was pissed. “What the actual fuck?”

“She, um, doesn’t sound nice Adrien,” Sabrina added, in an attempt to join in.

“What is she even blackmailing you with?!”

“That’s um…” Adrien had a feeling Chloe would be less than sympathetic if she knew he was actually crushing on. Which was a shame, because he always thought the two of them would be good friends. If they stopped butting heads, they might actually find out they agreed on a lot of things.

“Well?”

Adrien took a deep breath, trying to force the words he needed to say. “She says she’ll tell my father who I’m secretly dating if I don’t date her instead.”

His breath was stupidly shaky as he waited for their reactions. Chloe was abnormally quiet, her lips opening and closing as she considered her words. It was humiliating. He’d prided himself on his perfect façade and yet he’d been so easily duped. Lila’s smirk flashed in his mind, the sure smile on her face as she cornered him, shame and anxiety scalding him.

_“Oh, you’re going to want to accept my proposition,” Lila bragged, ignoring all his attempts to get her to be reasonable. “After all, I know exactly who your girlfriend is. Or rather, who you_ want _her to be.”_

_Adrien had tried to brazen it out, keep his neutral tone and distant. “I don’t know what you are talking about. You know how news networks edit those things.”_

_“Oh, really? I saw your little hallway confession.”_

_Adrien tightly gripped his fork. “Confession?”_

_“Stop play games Adrien,” Lila said lowly, smile dropping. “I know how you feel about her and I know why you’re so afraid to let her find out.”_

_Adrien swallowed rising panic; her words too close to the truth. “F-find out what, exactly?”_

_Lila laughed, as if remembering the lines to a joke he wasn’t present for. “I wonder how disgusted Marinette will be when she learns you love her.”_

Sabrina spoke first. “Are you actually secretly dating anyone?”

How the hell did he begin to answer that?

“Who cares? Everyone knows you’re in love with me,” Chloe snapped, standing up out of her chair. “We just need to make them understand that.”

Adrien blinked, wondering why she thought now was the time to joke. Sure, in middle school, she had been really adamant about her interest in him. It kept her dad from trying to set her up with boys and allowed her to chase his terrifying fangirls away. Nino said it was weird and annoying but Adrien never minded. Chloe usually saved him from trouble and he got free hugs out of it. Win-win for everyone. But...had she actually been serious? What should he do? How could he turn her down without hurting her feelings?

Somehow Adrien ended up with a lap full of Chloe and a camera pointed in his face. Before he could mask his embarrassment and surprise at the cleavage pressing up against his shirt, she’d already snapped a photo. Her fingers quickly typing ‘#adriensrealgirlfriend’.

Panic rose. What would his dad think? What would Marinette think? Would Lila go back on her word to keep his feelings secret? “Chloe, I don’t—”

But she had already posted it to her feed, chuckling through an evil grin. The picture looked questionable with Chloe giving the camera bedroom eyes as she smushed her face against his surprised one. “Sabrina, come look.”

Sabrina begrudgingly dragged her feet with a sour expression. The way she looked now, Adrien had to wonder how the two had gotten so close.  Sabrina stared at the picture and gasped, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “Chloe, you’re a genius!”

“I know!” Chloe laughed, filling him with annoyance. Was she just snapping pictures to make fun of him? He’d known she’d started growing a mean streak in high school but she’d never treated him this way! How dare she make him the butt of some joke when he actually…actually _tried_.

“Sabrina, put your arms around his shoulders,” Chloe instructed, jumping off his lap, the light on her phone camera blinking. “Oh my god Adrikins, stop looking like your dad. I already told you, you can’t pull off stern and serious at all. Give me a smile! Aren’t you supposed to be a model?”

“Chloe, this is not funny,” he said lowly, trying to reign his feelings in. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to yell at them or cry. Sabrina was typing something on her phone, trying to position it in front of his face. He tried moved out of Sabrina’s grasp and she moved away, only to come back with her phone in his face and,

“See? Isn’t it perfect?”

On the screen, a picture of Lila’s arm draped across his back, a foxy smirk over his shoulder, soft lighting filter, and a dramatic tagline, ‘#adriensrealgirlfriend’. He stared at the imagine in confusion, wondering how she had been able to snap such a perfect picture in mere seconds. Then he remembered Chloe’s equally risqué picture and slowly realized where she was going with this.

An almost Chat-like smirk touched his face.

“Oh, got it!” Chloe cheered, snapping a picture of his soft eyes. She showed them the shot, Sabrina’s arms draped, on his neck, his relaxed expression and almost absent smile that lit his eyes, the rumbled look of her black robe and rustled hair.

“Let’s see that bitch try to outsmart my new number one trending hashtag,” Chloe murmured, sending the picture to Sabrina for her to upload. “Adrikins, how many girl friends do you think you can rack up in the next few days?”

Adrien felt almost like Chat Noir as he bantered back, “Oh, with the random fangirls who take candid shots of me whenever I go out, easily one hundred.”

“Sabrina, send a text to the class. And I quote, ‘Adrien’s dad is freaking out about’ Oh what the fuck was her name, Sabrina, Leia? Whatever. Add, ‘We need everyone to post #adriensrealgirlfriend and get him off the trail’. Oh, and make sure Lilo is not a part of the text chain, thank you!”

Sabrina had a devilish grin of her own, “How about I add, ‘don’t tell Lila what we are doing. Adrien doesn’t want her to be hurt by what his dad said’?”

“Perfect,” Chloe praised, taking a sip of wine. “Hm, I wonder if daddy can get me a news interview tomorrow? I haven’t put on a public performance in a few days.”

Adrien released a breath. “What if she tries to blackmail me?”

“Why? You aren’t going to break up with her, are you?” Chloe shot out. “It’s not _your_ fault you’re Paris’s number one teenage heartthrob and all these girls are obsessed with you. After that cute interview? Puh-lease. Just wait until she takes the bait and fights everyone online. Your dad isn’t going to believe anything from a teenage drama queen anyway. Problem solved.”

Adrien stood up and wrapped his arms around Chloe, for once not caring that he wasn’t allowed to do so. “Thank you. You’re amazing.”

Chloe laughed, but squeezed him tightly back. “I know. I am pretty great, aren't I?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahaha, enter Chloe the real MVP. Ya weren't expecting that, were ya?
> 
> Let me know what you guys think about my wacky interpretation of Chloe. I know she's supposed to be the bitch character but I crack a smile every time her dramatic butt is on screen. I also enjoyed playing around with comfort and friendship this chapter. Feels like the two sections actually mirror each other thematically as opposed to just moving the story along. 
> 
> Also Adrien naively thinking he has interrupted a sleepover. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> Oof, sorry the writing is extra rough and I'm way behind deadline. My laptop battery went kaput and I had to rush. Hope the wait was worth it.


	29. Nervous Confusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Chat Mode Activated

Marinette was sipping a bland energy drink, itching with the need to move as she sat in her hospital bed. The doctors said she could leave by evening, and as far as she was concerned, the evening couldn’t come soon enough. The nurses had just finished making morning rounds and Tikki was delivering some wise philosophy from her flowerbed.

“Oh, Chat and I had a long talk while you were asleep,” Tikki said, as if it were nothing. “About what it means to hold the miraculous and why identities are so important. You can say we had a bit of a disagreement in the beginning but I think he saw what I was trying to say. Chat is a very smart boy; I think sometimes you don’t give him enough credit.”

“Yes, but what did he agree with you on?” Marinette pressed, headache arriving as the painkillers were finally starting to wear off. The flood of everything that had happened yesterday—her screaming at Lila, the akuma attack, Alya’s lecture, her dad’s crying, Chat’s eyes roving her body—all pressed in her mind and embarrassed her. She’d worried her family, her friends, her partner, and for what?

“He knows Ladybug has certain responsibilities that Chat Noir cannot handle and he knows how dangerous it can be if your identity is exposed. But he believes knowing the truth has only been more helpful for him in helping you.”

Marinette didn’t like that one bit. “I’m not a baby. He’s not supposed to take care of me.”

“Chat Noir is supposed to help Ladybug—”

“Then who helps him?” Marinette snapped. “He’s just a teenager like me, Tikki. Neither of us know how to deal with all this saving Paris nonsense. Hell, I’m in a hospital, but where is he? What about all the times he’s been thrashed around? Do you honestly think that idiot actually helped himself? Because I don’t! That’s what freaks me out Tikki!”

Tikki blinked. “The suit protects him Marinette. Just like yours protects you.”

Marinette swallowed the burning in her throat and turned away. Because Tikki was right, as usual, and she was getting herself worked up over nothing. She wished her parents had at least brought her sketchbook or phone. Anything to get her mind off of things. Part of her wished she had the secret agent phone with her. She'd gotten far too used to having Chat available, seeing his cute pictures and reassuring messages, knowing he was safe and happy somewhere far away. 

“Marinette,” Tikki called, tapping her shoulder. “I think you should tell him how you feel.”

A quiet knock on the door sent Tikki zipping through the flowers. Marinette blinked, patting away the beginnings of angry tears, willing herself to appear normal for once.

“Marinette?” Adrien called, cutely peeking through the door. “Can I come in?”

Her face flamed red and if she wasn’t currently blanketed under a hospital cover, she’d probably have made a run for the window. “A-a-adrien, wh-why are you h-here?”

Adrien smiled, brighter than the sun, and said in his perfect angel way, “I wanted to see you.”

 _Fuck._ Why was he doing this to her? Did he know about her crush—of course he fucking did, how could anyone not know—was this some sort of punishment? She couldn't imagine Adrien being so mean. Was he really just this friendly with everyone? “Come in…”

Adrien slid through the crack in the door, silent as a ghost as he slid it shut, looking rather unlike himself in a rumpled hoodie and faded jeans. His eyes were also somewhat puffy and his hair was scattered. In all the time she’d known him, she’d never seen the model anything more than picture perfect. “Thanks. Sorry for surprising you.”

 _Think of something to say, damn it._ “Uh, don’t you have class or something?”

He smiled at his feet. “I ditched.”

Marinette felt her jaw drop. When in the history of man had Adrien ever not been on time and present for his obligations? It was amazing and freakish how easily he juggled so many duties but that was just the type of person he was. Even when his smiles started looking more forced he still kept going. It was one of the things she really admired about him.

“ _You_ ditched,” Marinette repeated dumbly. “Oh…”

“There’s a lot going on but I thought we should talk about what happened yesterday.” His tone was serious and he almost started resembling his dad. 

 _Oh shit, oh fuck._ “I’M SORRY!” She blurted, drawing up her knees and hunching her shoulders. Adrien walked closer, looking so tall as he towered close to the bed like a male lead in a television drama. In comparison, she was small and curled up, probably smelling of antiseptic and covering in an unattractive paper gown. _Ugh, I should have just told him to leave. This is so humiliating._

Then a pink petal touched her nose. She stared at the bouquet of pink peonies he was holding.

Her favorite flower and color presented by the boy of her dreams.

_Whaaaaaaaaat?_

 

\---

 

Adrien brazened it out, knowing that they had to start somewhere. But Marinette was staring at him like he had grown two heads and he was starting to think that maybe bringing her flowers wasn’t the best plan. He’d made excuses that it was totally normal because they were friends and friends went to visit each other in hospitals with gifts, right?

But then again friends didn’t give each other flowers that translated to: “I secretly love you”.

It had been a bit of brazen of him but maybe he was enjoying the thrill.

“Um, th-thanks,” Marinette whispered, taking the flowers in her hands. Their fingertips lightly brushed and he felt short of breath. She looked so pretty among the petals and if he had a camera, he might be tempted to capture her in frame. It was hard enough keeping himself from showering her with flirtations.

“I see you’ve already gotten some flowers,” he teased, trying to hide his curiosity about how she felt about them. As Chat, he’d been stoked to see Ladybug themed daisies, enjoying the romantic connotations of the red petals and the new beginnings the white petals promised. Daises were his mother’s favorite flowers. She told him they were the flower of true love, built of two flowers in harmony, and had once been a secret code for returned affections.

He thought he saw Tikki hiding in them and grinned. “You’re so popular.”

“OH! YES, I MEAN, not that I’m pop-popular, just, a FRIEND was worried about me,” she babbled, reminding him of what she’d told Chat about Adrien. Clearly, she was nervous, but she had been that way with Chat yesterday and she wasn't angry with him then. Maybe she had never been angry at Adrien either. “NOT THAT you aren’t. Worried, I mean. Are you?”

But if she wasn’t angry, then what _was_ she? He grinned. “Should I be?”

“You…” Marinette pouted, looking almost annoyed. “You wanted to talk, right?”

“Yes,” he replied, sitting on the bed beside her. She sucked in a sharp breath and he wondered if he was being _too_ weird. But then again, she looked so pretty and his back was almost touching her knees and that was probably the closest he would ever get to cuddling which was what he _actually_ wanted to do. So, if anything, he was being extra considerate of her space, right?

…even he knew that was shitty logic.

Marinette hadn’t scooted away, but she was trembling, and that was enough to have him moving closer to the foot of the bed. She watched him with those anxious blue eyes and asked,

“Are you angry?”

“No, of course not,” Adrien eased, confused by the question. “I just wanted to clear up some confusion between us. I don’t want any more misunderstandings between us.”

Marinette almost looked nauseous. “O-oh?”

“I’m sorry that Lila hurt you. I should have done more to calm her down instead of just watching.”

“B-but I shouldn’t have said all those things to her,” Marinette snapped, a bit of her fire returning. “It was immature and rude and I caused a lot of problems. For her and for you. I know… I know you are dating and I’m sure a lot of your fans are already being mean about it and I didn’t—”

“We aren’t dating,” Adrien interrupted firmly. He couldn’t reach her shoulder, so his hand settled for her foot. Even under blankets, it still surprised him how small it was.

Marinette opened her mouth and then shut it, processing what he was saying.

“I tried to tell you the other day. I don’t have a girlfriend.” _Because I want to date you,_ floated in the air between them. Adrien’s thumb stroked her foot absently.

“Um…okay…”

Adrien waited for some sort of indication of how she felt about that but her face was decidedly blank. He cleared his throat and pressed on. “Lila is … really difficult. I don’t think you should have yelled at her like that but I also wanted to thank you for trying to help me. It was a difficult spot she put me in and, yeah you kind of went overboard, but I don’t think I would have come up with something better. I really appreciate you being there for me.”

Marinette was twining petals between her fingers, biting her lip, making him want to lean over and kiss her. She finally uttered, “I don’t think that’s true. You’re really smart and considerate. I mean, not that I…I’m not? Well, I’m not saying I am or like, it’s just that you, um…”

“Make you nervous?” he offered with a smile.

Marinette sucked a breath and moved her foot away. “What? No! I didn’t say that.”

“I know. I did.”

“UM!” She started loudly, then hushed herself. “Visitors aren’t allowed right now.”

 _I pushed too hard,_ he thought glumly. Well, miracles weren’t made in a day. Maybe if he just kept pushing his luck, she might change her mind about him. After all, she liked Chat and HE was Chat. All he had to do was give her time to get to know him and clear up whatever misunderstanding their initial meeting had caused. Easy enough, right?

“Yeah, I thought it would be better if a whole bunch of reporters didn’t sneak in and bother us.”

“You could have waited until school,” she pointed out. “Not that it isn’t nice to see you or anything. I mean, I like seeing you, not like that, just you know … why now?”

“There’s going to be a lot of drama and uproar on social media so I wanted to make sure you knew the truth,” Adrien continued, trying to be brave. Because he _needed_ her to be on his side.

“The truth?”

“Yes. Lila’s not my girlfriend. The whole class might say otherwise but she’s not. I don’t have a girlfriend. Other girls might _say_ they are dating me, but I don’t have a girlfriend.”

 “Wh-why…” Marinette trailed off, hiding behind the flowers. “Why do you keep telling me that?”

Maybe he’d become too daring. “Why do you think?”

He’d leaned closer, baiting her further, wanting to see that daring she’d shown on the rooftop. Part of him thought maybe she _liked_ being teased, that his mistake in being Adrien was that he was _too_ nice and too dependent on her reaching out first. That maybe, just like their midnight rendezvous, if he played with her, she’d start to play back.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng, I’ve brought your lunch,” a nurse called, wheeling in a cart. She gawked at Adrien and he quickly stood up, throwing on his hood. He walked over to the nurse and put a hand on her shoulder,“Thank you for taking care of my friend. Do you think you can keep this between us?”

The nurse nodded mutely; eyes wide.

“See you at class Marinette,” he winked over his shoulder, disappearing down white halls.

 

\---

 

 _What the fuck just happened?_ Marinette wondered, nibbling on an apple, staring at the doorway. Maybe she’d gotten high on the painkillers and dreamed it all up. But it almost seemed like … it was almost like Adrien was _flirting_ with her. Which just wasn't possible. Was it? 

“That wasn’t real right?” She asked Tikki, who was diving into her chocolate pudding.

Tikki laughed and Marinette really felt like she was being left out of some secret joke.  “Who knew getting in the hospital was the way to get Adrien to notice you?

“TIKKI.”

The kwami tilted her head. “What? Isn’t this a good thing?”

“No, it’s not a good thing. I’m dating Chat, remember?”

“You are?”

Her headache was only getting worse. “No, but maybe? I don’t know!!! This isn’t fair! It makes absolutely no sense. First he was dating Lila—”

“He wasn’t dating Lila,” Tikki interrupted with a grin. “He made that REALLY clear.”

It was strange how clear he'd made it, his eyes almost pleading with her, almost like a husband convincing his wife he wasn't cheating. Which was just bizarre. Why would he care about her opinion so much? “Okay, whatever. Literally nothing changed besides the fact that I acted like a crazy stalker, triggered an akuma, and ended up in a hospital. Why now?!”

“It IS weird when you put it that way,” Tikki said slowly, tapping her cheek with her paw. “Something must have changed. How very interesting…”

After a while Marinette gave up listening to Tikki's unhelpful musing and flicked through the news channels, doing her damned best to put Adrien out of her mind. But, as if the world was mocking her, his face was plastered on every single one of the hospital's fourteen channels. 

“Number one teenage heartthrob Adrien Agreste has been reported found this afternoon at the Agreste manor after missing for almost twenty-four hours. Reports say he was lost during the akuma attack with classmate Lila Rossi,” Nadia Chamack read with her typical vocal fry. “His father has refused to let reporters on the property and his secretary has no comment about explosion of the new hashtag adriensrealgirlfriend.”

Marinette almost dropped her spoon in her cereal. “Whaaaaaaaat?”

“We’re reported over a couple thousand posts just within the last hour,” the reporter continued, as strange pictures of Adrien popped up with models, classmates, and random girls. Most of them were pictures from previous photo shoots or candid new reports, with girls posed and plastered on with photoshop. “The trend allegedly started when Lila Rossi posted this photo on her twitter handle #thereallila. She has begrudgingly accepted to share her side of the story.”

The camera zoomed out to a Lila crying fake ass crocodile tears. “I’m, I’m sorry to be like this on television. But you can’t imagine how upsetting it is seeing other girls pretending to be with your boyfriend. He _told_ me it was better to keep it a secret and I should have listened!”

“Oh please,” Marinette scoffed. “This is disgusting.”

She flipped the channel, trying to reign in her anger and surprise, only to see celebrity hosts arguing about the whole debacle. “I mean, SOME of these photos are not photoshopped. Take a look at this one with his childhood friend Chloe Bourgeois . I hate to say it but innocent nice boy Adrien Agreste might have been putting on an act all this time.”

An older woman with too much makeup and trendy clothing rose to his defense. “True fans of Adrien would know that Chloe Bourgeois has been trying to push him into dating for years. They are not, and never will be an item. It makes more sense he’s dating long time model and coworker Jeanne D’arc. After all, he spoke out directly for her in the infamous interview.”

Marinette moved to another channel, watching Chloe raging in a replayed interview with Nadia Chamack. “All these lame-o posers think they can just hit on Adrien because he’s popular and it’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. He’s chosen to put his work and education first and these girls need to respect that. Too bad for them since we’re totally going to get married after college. If anyone is Adrien's hashtag real girlfriend it's me. At least I treat him like a human being and give him his space."

Tikki finally took the remote and turned the television off. “Okay, that’s enough of that…”

“Oh my god, no wonder Adrien looked so tired,” Marinette murmured, thoughtful as she played with the peonies on her bedside. They were her mother's favorite flowers and had been scattered at both her Chinese and Parisan wedding. Marinette dreamed of designing her own gown based on their petals. But he probably meant to give them to her as a friend.

“It must be a lot of stress being that famous,” Tikki said aloud. "I bet Adrien is having a hard time right now."

And yet he’d still found the time to come talk to her. If he hadn’t, she’d been sitting here having a panic attack, wondering who his real girlfriend was and beating herself up for being so blind and unable to let him go. Now, she didn’t know what to think. But the way he’d looked as he smirked at her, hair messily scattered over his brow, the glimmer in his eyes as he quietly asked, _“What do you think?”_ kept replaying in her head like the polka-dot clues of a lucky charm she hadn’t figured out how to piece together.

She wasn’t sure what the hell to think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's all starting to unravel now, haha. If only Lila could have known what she had started.
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed this little in between chapter. It's cool seeing Adrien letting himself have fun. 
> 
> Imagine if Adrien knew she liked him. He wouldn't have to hold back all his flirtations and puns and dad jokes. He'd be telling anyone he could trick into listening about how awesome his girlfriend was all the time and literally annoying the shit out of everyone. There would be flowers every single day and he'd probably write awful love poetry. All this time, Marinette has been unwittingly keeping this monster at bay.


	30. Your Voice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Angst, emotional abuse, and depressive thoughts.

Adrien steeled himself as he pressed the intercom button. Natalie’s deadpan expression immediately greeted him, only to turn into a myriad of shock and relief. She was pretty—in her own distant and perfect way—and he wondered if she ever let go of that shell she adamantly clung to.

“Adrien! Where have you been?” Her monotone turned sharp.

“Can I come in?” he asked with a grin.

Natalie frowned. “Your father is furious.”

“I know.”

Nathalie sighed, lifting up her glasses to pinch her brow. He put his hands in his pockets and waited. “Do you need some time before I let him know you’ve arrived?”

It was kind of her. But she was always like that: keeping his secrets from his father, giving him extra breaks in his schedule when the days got to hard, communicating his wishes when he could not. Their relationship was problematic at best but that didn’t mean neither of them cared.

“I’ll be okay, Natalie.”

The gates creaked open and he walked down the path. His eyes caught the sunlight against the almost castle-like walls and for a moment he thought he saw his mother there, laughing as she watered the flowers. They hadn’t wilted, exactly, but now that a garden service came to tend to them, they looked almost artificial. Like set pieces or decorations rather than living beings. It was harsh yet apt to what he had become.

As usual, his father stood at the top of the double-stair, arms crossed behind his back, his face choleric with barely tempered rage. “Where the hell have you been?”

Adrien sucked in a breath, knowing it was stupid to expect something different. That his father wasn’t that type of man. “My phone got crushed during the akuma attack and I got lost.”

Though he didn’t move, his presence grew more intense, his tall height towering over the distance between the stairs. “Did you not think to go to the police? Or ask someone to borrow their phone? Do you honestly expect me to believe you wandered the streets of Paris all night aimlessly? You’re smarter than that, Adrien. You should think about your answer before lying again.”

“It’s the truth,” Adrien replied sourly. He had been nothing but honest and look where it got him. “I wandered around and then stayed at Le Grande Paris with Chloe. It was the only building in the area I recognized.”

“You could have called and had your bodyguard pick you up,” Gabriel snapped. “You know how I feel about that Bourgeois girl. And look what trusting her got you? Barely one night and she’s already slandering your name across news networks like the slattern she is.”

_Don’t get angry,_ Adrien eased, taking a deep breath. He knew his father had not one kind word to say about her. Expecting something else would be insanity. And yet…

“Don’t talk about Chloe like that,” Adrien grit out. “She just wanted to help with the whole girlfriend frenzy. You have no right to judge her, especially considering _you’re_ the one who started it.”

His brow raised. “Excuse me? You had botched up your own interview. I was trying to mitigate losses.”

_Don’t get angry,_ Adrien reminded himself. “What I said was harmless. That was the interviewer’s misinterpretation. Media is always like that father. They want the drama; no point getting upset over it.”

“That doesn’t mean we have to feed into it,” Gabriel insisted. “Look at this mess you’ve made. If you had just listened to Natalie’s instructions we wouldn’t be here. I had taken care of it.”

“By forcing me on a date with a girl I barely know?” Adrien fumed, as a fire lit in his stomach. “Hell, _you_ don’t even know her! She probably came to you with some sort of panic inducing lie to get some attention and then you took the bait. What did she tell you, dad? The girl I’m dating is a monster? That’s she’s going to save me from myself? That was probably the stupidest thing you’ve ever forced me to do. You really trusted some random stranger over your own son?”

_I shouldn’t have said that,_ he chastised himself. His heart was thumping in his chest, his father would doubtless punish him again, and yet he didn’t feel scared anymore.

“You mean the son that’s stealing money and sneaking around at night doing God knows what?”

Adrien flinched, because he knew, in his father’s eyes, that completely made sense. It felt so unfair. Yeah, maybe he was breaking the rules. But had he really done anything wrong? “Okay, first of all, it’s _my_ money that _I_ earned from _my_ job. I think I’m allowed to do something nice for myself occasionally since my boss is a slave driver who works me so hard that I have no social life.”

Gabriel marched down the steps. “The only reason you have that job—”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re right,” Adrien interrupted, growing louder. “Despite being so much of a celebrity that they can’t shut up about me on any media station I don’t actually have any talent or skill. And if I actually did it would only be because you had granted it to me, right?”

Part of it felt good. The lock on his heart had finally cracked and he flooded out all of his anger and resentment and disappointment that he’d tried so desperately to keep contained. Because hadn’t he been the one pushing himself to meet those expectations? Hadn’t he _tried_? For years, he’d been everything his father had demanded of him and it still hadn’t been enough.

Gabriel had stopped mid-stair, arms crossed as an unfamiliar expression of doubt flickered on his features. “I never said that. Where is all of this coming from?”

But underneath the adrenaline and anger he was hollow. His father’s expression softened enough that he looked almost hurt which certainly wasn’t what Adrien had wanted at all. The whole reason he’d played the puppet, swallowed his words, demanded perfection of himself, ignored his own feelings, destroyed his body, was to see this man smile just one more time. But he never did. All of his hard work had amounted to nothing. That killed him more than anything. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he uttered, defeated. “Just forget about it. School should be letting out in a couple hours. You want me to prepare for fencing class or stay here?”

His father was examining him the way a scientist tried to analyze an unexpected result in an experiment. Every part of their process had been an attempt at creating perfection and now that his façade was starting to crack what was left? If he knew his father, he’d glue the pieces back together until all of his discord was erased, do whatever it took to keep his fashion empire running.

“It probably would be unwise considering the media frenzy,” Gabriel finally said, adjusting his cuff links. “Spend the day at home and try to relax. We’ll talk once you’ve calmed down.”

That stung. Everything he said was just a flicker of passion, a moment of weakness. Yet, even underneath all his masks, he’d never been able to crush his feelings the way his father had so monstrously. Adrien stomped past him on the stairs, wishing he could turn invisible. “I’ll be in my room then. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Practice piano or something,” his father snapped. “And change out of those hideous street clothes.”

Though his tone was harsh and his words hard, there was something strange in his eyes. Something Adrien couldn’t even begin to identify. “Right. Wouldn’t want to give the Agreste line a bad image.”

Gabriel opened his mouth and then closed it, brow furrowing as he considered something. It was weird seeing him uncertain about anything. “Why…why didn’t you just come home?”

“I don’t know, dad,” spilled from his traitorous lips. “Why wouldn’t I?”

 

\---

 

Marinette fell back into her bed and released a long sigh, enjoying the comfort of being back in her own room again. Tikki was fluttering around, fixing some of the loose paper flowers on the giant heart the class had made. She watched the kwami with a smile, thinking herself lucky that her classmates had been so generous and caring. All of them had shown up—besides Adrien and Lila anyway—excitedly asking her about her experience with Chat Noir and showing off all their personal messages and signatures. Sometimes she forgot just how lucky she was to have so much positivity around her.

And yet something about it felt wrong.

She’d been listening to all their excitement, smiling and laughing, and exuberantly recounting the akuma attack, but an unease was growing in the back of her thoughts. All their faces had been warm and welcome but what did they really think? No one dared mention Lila or Adrien or the media frenzy, despite the fact that she was in the center of it all, and the avoidance only made their kindness feel duplicitous. She knew they were only trying to make her feel better. They came there to support her; they would never pretend to be close to her just to hurt her. She knew it, damn it.

“Marinette, are you okay?” Tikki asked, turning away from the giant card.

“I’m fine,” Marinette mumbled, hugging her cat pillow. The plush felt soft against her cheek and the small grin sewn on to its face reminded her of a certain feline superhero. One whose flowers were currently decorating her desk besides Adrien’s. One who she’d found herself stupidly waiting for between all the visitors.

But he hadn’t come and her phone had no messages on it.

“You don’t seem fine,” Tikki observed.

“It’s stupid,” Marinette mumbled. Of course, he couldn’t come see her.

“Hm, well let me know if you want to talk about it. You should probably get some sleep soon since you have school tomorrow. I know I helped speed the process along but you still need to take it easy until you fully recover, okay?”

Marinette smiled. “I will. Thanks, Tikki.”

“Anytime,” Tikki saluted, flying over to her bed. Then, as if second guessing, she floated back over to the desk, grabbing the secret agent phone and tossing it by Marinette’s feet.

“Just in case,” Tikki winked, fluttering off. _Why am I so damn obvious?_ Marinette groaned, throwing her head back to look at the ceiling. Chat _always_ texted first. The fact that he didn’t meant he was busy or didn’t want to talk to her. And why would he after the trouble she caused?

Marinette set the phone on her night stand and flicked off the light, burrowing under her sheets. They were cool and soft, far more comfortable then the hospital’s scratchy blankets, and yet she found herself unable to settle. She kept thinking about two strong arms lifting her though waiting rooms, a comfortable shoulder and quiet voice, the gentle heart beat under her finger tips, the tip of a clawed finger pushing back her hair, his warm smile.

_No, no, no, no,_ her mind chanted as she resisted the urge to get up and pace. She hated how her brain seized on ideas and wouldn’t let them go. Every single crush she ever had turned into this god damned obsession and they had all turned out so poorly. She didn’t want that with Chat.

She didn’t want him to hate her.

_But he doesn’t hate me,_ she reasoned, sitting up in the dark. _He was the one that liked ME._

“It’s okay,” Marinette whispered, cupping her own hand. “I’m just going to let him know I’m home and okay. It’s not a big deal. He’s not going to think I’m clingy.”

Her finger were trembling as she typed.

**I made it home.**

Marinette threw the phone down on the bed, sinking her face in her hands. The screen was shining in the darkness, her own message branding her eyes and filling her with more doubt. The light faded and turned to black and she bit her lip. Usually he answered in seconds at night as if he really were a nocturnal creature. The time on top of the screen read 11:00pm when she checked, which wasn’t _terribly_ late. But maybe he had fallen asleep.

Around 11:15 her phone buzzed.

**Chaton: ٩(●ᴗ●)۶ Happy to hear it. Are you feeling any better?**

Marinette smiled, her face painfully pink. She decided to be bold. He  _liked_ when she was bold. 

**I am now.**

She waited for another reply. But minutes ticked by. 

**Chaton: That’s good.**

_Weird._ She’d expected some lame pun or cheesy flirtation.

**Happy 2 be back in my own bed.**

_There,_ she thought confidently. Not too desperate but enough to set up a delivery.

**Chaton: I bet you’re exhausted. You probably should get some sleep.**  

Marinette frowned.

**Maybe I don’t want to.**

Definitely something Ladybug would say. But was it too much?

**Chaton: You should if you want to get better.**

“What the fuck?” She whispered, looking through the brief conversation. It wasn’t like his considerate overbearing attitude was new. But it was never one-sided. _It’d be a lot easier if I could just see his face._ It was so much easier talking one-to-one. Despite his constant smiles his eyes always told the true story. Even if she didn’t know how to read it.

**Come over here and make me.**

Marinette tapped send, heart beating wildly, her flush getting worse. It was an unspoken rule that he didn’t intrude on her daily life. That even though he _knew_ she was Marinette he couldn’t just show up and use that knowledge to his advantage. And yet, here she was, inviting him over.

**Chaton: Not tonight Bugaboo.**

All those jokes about wanting to be a housecat and playful flirts about always being available and yet, here he was, turning her down. _What the hell happened?_

Marinette sniffed back tears. _What if he … doesn’t like me anymore?_

 

\---

 

Adrien sighed, pressing his forehead in his knees, setting the phone down on the bathroom tiles.

“SHE LITERALLY INVITED YOU OVER!” Plagg screeched, peering at the screen. “WHY WOULD YOU TURN HER DOWN?!”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Adrien snapped back, voice hoarse. “Just look at me!”

It had been worse than usual. Natalie had freed up his schedule and had dinner sent to his room. His father had left to attend some business conference and Adrien hadn’t set foot outside. He’d thought he’d been okay. He told himself everything was fine and spent the day catching up on some books he liked. Yet, as he settled into bed, that old despair came creeping up on him again. A frenetic repetition that no one wanted him, that he was wasting space, that even his own mother had left him, that everyone saw him as a sad joke, that he had _failed._

“I _am_ looking at you, dumbass!” Plagg flittered. “I’ve been looking and watching and talking and you’ve been IGNORING me again. Stop being stupid! Get out of the shower before you get hypothermia!”

Adrien was sitting on the tiles pajamas and hair dripping with icy water as his reflected sadly stared at him through the glass. He’d just wanted to clear his head, get out of the funk and anxiety, trigger a diver’s response and be done with it. The thoughts left as the icy feeling hit his skin and he’d spent the last thirty minutes trying to convince himself to get up again and turn off the water.

“I told you I was fine Plagg,” he uttered, the lie sounding dead on his lips. “I’ll get out.”

“Good!” The kwami snapped, throwing a towel at his head. “Get out and answer her!”

Plagg usually slept through the night and didn’t notice. Adrien often took showers at weird times—partially from his schedule and partially because water just felt nice—but the kwami must have grown suspicious when he didn’t come out of the bathroom. He’d zoomed in, forcing the water off, and started tugging at Adrien with a panic, finally zooming out to look for the secret phone, babbling about how he didn’t know how to fix things he could only destroy them.

As fate would have it, Marinette texted exactly as Plagg retrieved the phone. 

Adrien wrapped himself in the towel as Plagg read the screen.

“She thinks you’re mad at her. She’s asking what she did.”

“Fuck,” Adrien swore, pushing back his damp hair. He hadn’t meant to make her worry. But how could he face her like this? He had already been pushing her and expecting too much from her. There was no way he could let her see him like this. If she knew just how much baggage he was carrying, she’d run the other way screaming.

“Talk to her,” Plagg insisted, pressing the phone against his chest.

“I though you didn’t want me talking to her,” Adrien grumbled, taking the phone.

“I never said that,” Plagg defended, crossing his arms. “I said I don’t understand it and it’s weird and stop getting me involved. I don’t care as long as she makes you happy.”

Adrien felt something warm inside his chest. “Plagg…”

The phone buzzed in his hands.

“TEXT HER!”

“Okay, okay.” His eyes scanned her messages.

**Buginette: Right. Ok. Im sorreyy.**

**Buginette: I shouldnt hav said it. Pls dont be mad.**

**Buginette: Chat. I kno I am dum. I messedup. But I thought we were ok?**

**Buginette: Was it something else? What did I do?**

Adrien could already see her fidgeting and fumbling. More than anything, he wanted her to be able to depend on him. But how could she when he was like this?

**I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you. Just have some stuff going on. It’s not you.**

Adrien sent the text and took a deep breath walking toward the counter where Plagg had tossed some new clothes. The cat kwami’s ears were twitching as he tried very hard to look busy looking out the window.

**Buginette: What kind of stuff?**

Damn, of course she was going to ask.

**Don’t worry about it. Go to sleep and we’ll talk more tomorrow.**

Adrien finished changing, toweling the water from his hair, hoping that was enough to ease her worry. Desperately hoping that he wasn’t ruining his chances with her.

**Buginette: Will you call me?**

**Buginette: I want to hear your voice.**

Adrien felt his face heat. She’d been pretty forward with her texts earlier, especially considering her contrary attitude, but this was a whole new level. Why did she want to talk to him so badly?

“She wants to call me,” Adrien whispered, staring up at Plagg.

“Okay, so call her. You don't need my permission. What are you waiting for?”

Adrien took a deep breath, hoping his voice wouldn’t read weird over the phone, hoping there wasn’t some new development he had to deal with, hoping he could be strong enough for her. Maybe hoping that she could be strong enough for him. He pressed the call button and held his breath.

“Hello, Chat?” Marinette whispered on his ear. “Is that you?”

“Good evening my lady,” he croaked, internally kicking himself for his awful delivery.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s late and you’re super busy and I’m probably the last thing on your mind right now but I just wanted…” Marinette’s rapid-fire nerves grew silent on the receiver.

“What’s wrong?” he pressed, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Everything’s fine. I just … I really … gosh, can’t I just talk to you? Do I have to have a problem?"

Adrien huffed, his heart warming his icy chest. "I'll take any excuse to hear your beautiful voice, bugaboo."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, what a chapter. It was tough to write but I managed to pull through. 
> 
> In regards to the shower scene, diver's response IS an actual method for coping with severely elevated emotions but not in the way he's doing it. For those curious, the normal method involves a bucket of ice water which you set on a counter and briefly contact with your face when facing SEVERELY high emotional pain (i.e. panic attacks, suicidal ideation, etc). This triggers a physiological response--kind of like an adrenaline rush--that hyper focuses you back to your body and out of your head. I would not suggest doing this regularly or exposing your body to cold temperatures for long; it'd probably be best to talk to a doctor/therapist instead of taking my word for it. Don't try fumbling your way though your psychological health the way Adrien is.
> 
> As tough as it is, a lot of good things are happening here. Plagg and Natalie are looking out for Adrien, Marinette's actually seeking him out and getting ready to listen, Gabriel's having second thoughts about his tyranny. I swear it'll get better, fam. We're moving on to the comfort part of this hurt/comfort arc. Prepare for some fluffy love and comfort :>. 
> 
> Also, we made it to thirty! Thanks for sticking around and reading this crazy ride. I think I mentioned before that this was the first fanfic I've ever done and I've been amazed by the support. Your support keeps me posting!


	31. False Happiness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: An actual conversation

Marinette listened to the empty sound of his voice on the receiver and her anxiety only ratcheted. _What happened to him? Is he okay? Why does he sound like that?_ She wanted so, so badly to ask who hurt him, to go fight on his behalf, to lock him away where no one else could touch him and—

“B-bugaboo?” He asked breathily as the silence rose. “Was that one too easy?”

Right, because when he said something cheesy, she was supposed to get mad. Then he would push back even harder. That was their rhythm and, in a way, knowing what to expect was soothing.

“You silly cat,” she murmured weakly, gripping the phone. For some reason, he was putting up walls again. Because that’s what all his jokes were, she realized. Walls to whatever thoughts and feelings he was burying in his chest. _But, maybe there’s a reason he’s hiding things_ , Marinette thought carefully. Chat would never lie to her, not without reason, and _she_ had been the one to be so adamant about the fact they shouldn’t know each other outside of the masks.

“Are you sure everything is okay?” He asked, pitch relaxing. “You sound troubled.”

“It’s just, you know, getting back into the swing of things,” Marinette answered, deciding to lead him down another path. If she talked about what bothered her, then maybe he would feel more comfortable opening up about himself. And since she wasn’t that bothered about it anyway, she’d be able to control her emotions enough to navigate their conversation right.

“Oh,” he uttered. “Are you going back to school tomorrow?”

“Are you?” she asked, swallowing her own pride.

“I can’t tell you that,” he huffed, almost sounding exasperated.

The vague answer could have been an effort to conceal his identity. But there were so many students are their school that the answer wouldn’t matter anyway. He must be really preoccupied not to notice. _Is he getting kept out of school? Or forcing himself not to go?_ All she really knew about him was that he worked a job with long hours and his relationship with his father was dicey. She’d never heard him mention his mother; though once, when they fought an akuma on Mother’s Day she’d caught him smiling sadly and the family they reunited. It was the kind of look she saw people carry when they visited graves. Somber and full of memories. Marinette had her suspicions, but she’d never gotten the courage to ask.

Chat predictably changed the subject. “Are you still in pain from the attack?”

 “I feel great thanks to Tikki,” Marinette answered, trying to figure out where the kwami had gone. Since she couldn’t find her, she assumed she went on a late-night snack run down to the bakery. “She tried to speed up the process without drawing any suspicion. Wouldn’t want to be some medical miracle in the news. She says it’s really important that our daily identities be as incognito as possible.”

Chat almost barked out a laugh, startling her.

“What did I say?”

Chat was silent and she wished she could see his face and know what sort of thoughts he was debating.

“Tikki seems really serious,” he finally settled on. “I think it’s funny that she’s so cute yet so stern. You’d never expect her to be that strict. Reminds me of a certain superhero.”

Marinette felt her anger flare. But … but it wasn’t the first time he’d tried to purposefully make her angry. That could only mean she was moving in the right direction. “I bet Plagg is super cute too. Reminds me of a certain leather-clad feline.”

“Aww, thanks for noticing Bugaboo,” he gushed, octave rising in what she was starting to recognize as his Chat tone. It was more nasally, ending sounds with an upbeat, full of jokes and pride. “We really do make a cute couple, don’t we?”

Marinette grinned, voice going sultry. “Yeah, we do.”

She heard an inhale and could just imagine the flush taking his face. The idea of being able to make him tremble, control his reactions with just her voice, was far too tempting to resist.

“I was so surprised you didn’t come back to the hospital to visit me,” she teased, toes curling.

“Well, you know, we cats are nocturnal creatures,” Chat bantered. “And, my lady is so popular I couldn’t possibly take up all of her time. I bet you had floods of people to come and see you.”

 “Mm, but you could have come at night when things went dark,” Marinette cooed, feeling her face heat. “We would have had a whole room to ourselves and played for _hours_.  Imagine how quiet we'd have to be to not get caught. But, then again, you do have a difficult time keeping quiet, don’t you Chaton?”

“I, uh, w-well hospitals aren’t really the place for a, um, cat scan,” he weakly punned back.

_Wow, even his pun delivery isn’t there…_ But Marinette wouldn’t back down. Not until he asked her to stop. “Oh? A scan? Were you going to finish what you started on the roof?”

It shouldn’t be this easy to sink into. Not when they could barely muster conversation about their days. Why did he only respond when things got erotic? How did she break his shell?

 

\---

 

“I, uh, um,” Adrien was faltering. He wasn’t sure what was worse. The fact that she had been injured and he had taken advantage of her. Or the fact that he too had been standing in that hospital room, imagining what they would do if they were alone. “I was out of line. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” Marinette teased, sounding like an erotic phone operator. “I liked it.”

What the hell happened? Before the whole Lila debacle they had been texting, maybe casually mentioning the next time they would—how did she say it?— _play_ together. But it had almost been in a joking way, their texts returning to the casual partnership they had shared before all this began. Sometimes it had bothered him. He’d been anticipating whenever she would finish the cat play she’d been hinting at and it was frustrating waiting for nothing. At the same time, if he had to choose between the sessions and their text messages, there would be no contest.

Because he _didn’t_ want to be sex friends.

“You’re so lewd,” he said, knowing what she wanted him to say.

“S-so are you!” He could already see her blush. “Y-you’re the one who…”

Her silence surprised him. She wasn’t the type to be at a loss for words. If anything, she’d fly off the handle, saying too much for too little. Something was up, but he couldn’t figure out what. Maybe she was getting bored of him. Maybe his jokes had gotten too boring and the thrill of BDSM was the only way he could be unpredictable anymore. He sucked in a breath, trying to come up with something but he had nothing. There was no way he could ever measure up to the type of man she deserved and one day she'd finally realize it. It was going to happen eventually. He couldn’t hide behind the Chat Noir gimmick forever and sooner or later Marinette would figure out the truth and leave him. Just like his mother had.

“I’m sorry, this isn’t working, is it?”

His heart flipped. “Bugaboo?”

“I just don’t know what to do,” she whispered, “and I’m scared.”

Was she … crying?

“I didn’t want to tell you because I thought it might hurt you.”

_Oh god._ She was going to break up with him. She really _had_ gotten tired of him.

“But I don’t like lying and I think you need to hear it. The boy I liked showed up today.”

“S-see I told you that you were popular,” Adrien uttered, voice raw. Had she been trying to break up with him in person? Did she just want one last fling before she tossed him aside?

Had they even been anything in the first place?

“Chat, listen,” she interrupted hurriedly, “It’s not what you think. I’m not dating him. He just showed up out of nowhere and started flirting with me, at least I think he was, I’ve never really…that’s not the point. He’s never even noticed I existed before! He even brought flowers, which was super weird and I don’t know if it’s because he felt sorry for me or if he finally…”

Adrien wanted to congratulate her but he couldn’t find the words. Tears were falling down his face and quickly wiped them away, hoping Plagg hadn’t seen him. But the kwami had flown off. Maybe he’d finally gotten fed up with his wimpy miraculous holder and left.

“Maybe I just imagined things because I’ve liked him for so long and I’m really a terrible person. I’m trying, I’m trying _really_ hard to get over him,” she hiccuped, starting to cry as she kept going. “Because, because I tried to tell you, I really just …”

“Shh, it’s okay,” he soothed, his heart breaking. It was nice to hear that she at least tried. It shouldn’t have surprised him; Marinette was always kind. Just being allowed to be this close to her was more than he already deserved. He knew, better than anyone, you couldn’t force love where it didn’t exist. That it was stupid of him to continue pushing her.

“I want to keep texting stupid memes and talk about lame fics and listen to your god-awful puns and actually meet up sometime in the day or hang out and play video games and maybe even invite you over for dinner one day.  But sometimes you just disappear and you never tell me what you’re thinking and I don’t know what I did to hurt you but I don’t want you to be upset anymore. I know something’s wrong Chat but I don’t know how to fix it! You never let me in and you always have to deal with all of my stupid bullshit and sometimes, I think the only thing I ever do is make you miserable. I'm afraid of hurting you."

Marinette was sobbing, her voice ardent with pain as she gulped for breaths. Adrien tightly gripped the phone, unable to believe what he had just heard.

“Sometimes, you’re the only thing that keeps me going,” he confessed, tightly gripping the phone. “It may not seem like anything to you, but just hearing your laugh brightens my day. You get worried when I’m hurt and treat me like a person and you … you have no idea how difficult it is … how difficult it is to come home sometimes. When I’m with you I … when I’m Chat Noir … I feel like I’m actually alive. You could never make me miserable, my lady.”

Marinette’s crying had receded but he could still hear her slow breaths. It was terrifying, thinking how much she might pity him, and yet he knew he needed to say it.

“You don’t have to pretend be in love with me to make me happy Marinette.”

 

\---

 

Marinette released a breath, shocked by what he was saying. Being a miraculous user sucked. She was constantly tired, letting down her friends, missing obligations, constantly fighting for her life, and carrying the weight of Paris on her shoulders. What the hell kind of life was he living to make _that_ seem like a better alternative? How had such a smart, giving, confident person been torn down so much that he thought it was okay for her to use him? That being using was all he deserved? She wished she knew what to say to erase all of the doubt in his mind but even she knew that heartbreak couldn't be fixed so easily. There was no lucky charm that would cure the shadows in his heart.

“I want you to be happy,” she settled with. Part of her felt like she should tell him she loved him. But did she? Of course, she wanted what was best for him and to protect and cherish him, but didn’t she feel the same way about Alya? Her family? It didn't feel right to proclaim feelings for him when she herself was constantly wavering. Yes, she loved him, but love meant a lot of things. Knowing him, he’d reject her feelings and tell her that she was just trying to make him feel better.

“I’m sorry,” he uttered, sounding completely exhausted. “When it gets like this I … I just need some time to recharge. I’ll be back to normal by tomorrow.”

Marinette’s brow furrowed, frustrated that such an innocent sentiment hurt him. “That doesn’t mean you have to be happy all the time, Chat. You don’t have to hide away and pretend like everything is fine. It’s not like I’m perfect and cheerful all the time either. I’m not going to hate you for being upset. Stop acting like you’re some great burden or something.”

“I’m not really good at expressing how I feel.”

“Bullshit,” Marinette snapped. “You are the most expressive person I know. I may not understand why but I know when you’re upset. Why do you think I get so annoyed when you pretend to be fine?”

“I didn’t realize I was bothering you—”

“You aren’t bothering me! That’s what I’m trying to say! Be upset, yell or cry or whatever, I don’t care,” Marinette insisted, growing more passionate. “I might react badly or snap at you but at least you’ll know what I’m thinking. Just because you get upset doesn't mean I'm not going to like you anymore so stop making yourself feel miserable. You can’t hide everything inside forever; that’s how people get heart attacks. Sometimes you just gotta let it out and have a good cry.”

“You won’t think I’m,” he hesitated, voice growing smaller. “Weak?”

“Chat, you’re like the only person who could actually take me down in a fight. Well, maybe Alya’s sis could. Or Kagami, she’s seems kinda tough—shit, never mind. Even if you couldn't bench-press me you're the bravest person I know. No matter what you always pull through and help everyone. Plus, hello, I cry all the time. When I'm upset I can stay on the phone with Alya for hours crying while she sits there and takes all of it in. Do you think I’m weak?”

Chat breathed out a laugh. “No, of course not.”

“Good. So, next time you’re upset just call me. I swear I won’t laugh and even though I suck at making people feel better I’ll listen to whatever you have to say. I don’t care if you just cry and don't say anything. Hell, if you can’t cry, I’ll tie you up and make you cry. Just whatever you need to stop beating yourself up.”

Chat was quietly breathing and Marinette sincerely hoped she had gotten through to him. “I don’t know if we should do those kinds of things anymore. Especially since the guy you like finally likes you back. If you start dating, he’s not going to understand our relationship.”

How the fuck was he still on that? Didn’t he hear a word she said? Marinette’s jaw ticked. You didn't need to be romantic with someone to help them with their problems. Even then, hadn't she made it clear that she was going to put him before Adrien anyway? Chat could complain all he wanted about not being able to express himself but at least when he finally got the words out people understood him. How many more ways could she say the same thing?

“Do you even listen when I talk? I said I’m getting over him!”

“Why? He likes you back!” Chat snapped, surprising her. “I told you, you don’t have to pretend to like me!”

Marinette took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady and confident. “Whatever you may think, I won’t lie or pretend with you. Didn’t I tell you right away that I had someone else I liked? Yeah, I probably should not have continued leading you on, but it’s not like I was trying to take advantage of you. Plus, you went in fully knowing how I felt! I know it sucks, okay? Tikki’s told me one hundred times that you can have crushes on more than one person and my feelings for him don’t invalidate my feelings for you. So, when I say I’m trying to get over him, I mean it. I’m not some selfless perfect person like you keep trying to make me out to be. But I am trying and not once have I ever pretended to like you.”

“Wait, you have a crush on me?”

Marinette bristled. “I already said as much, didn’t I?”

“My lady, I think I would have remembered if you had,” he drawled, that happy-go-lucky teasing Chat tone creeping back into his voice. Because, of course, out of all the things she said, THAT was what he focused on. _God damn hopeless romantic._ Marinette wasn’t sure if she wanted to punch him or kiss him.

“Yeah, yeah, I have a crush on you, the sky is blue; that’s not important right now,” Marinette brushed aside, determined not to get into an argument about her feelings and his self-pity. Because it wasn’t about her. And if he needed her to fight for him, then she’d fight. "We're gonna actually talk about what made you so upset. That's an order, Chaton."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, don't get too excited, her crush isn't important anyways haha. 
> 
> This chapter was challenging. Both of them have such good mechanisms for avoiding problems and feelings. But Marinette really stepped up to the plate this time and is going to make sure Chat isn't a self sacrificing idiot. Hopefully, he'll be able to express himself next chapter.
> 
> Also, lol, me writing about how not everything is about love right in the middle of a ship fic. The irony of it all.


	32. Happy Prince

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Diabetes-Inducing Fluff

Adrien felt a shiver go up his spine and his throat close. Of course, he wanted to listen to her order and try his best but did she actually want to hear what he was going to say? She been adamant that he keep his identity to himself and furious at the idea that their lives might mingle. How was he supposed to juggle that expectation with this strange order? But, then again, hadn’t she also been adamant that he never show up to her house? This whole conversation was strange. Why did she want him to come over in the first place? Why was she so insistent on rejecting the boy she loved? Why…why did she have a crush on him?

“You have safe words if you need them,” Marinette said in his ear, the worry in her voice more seductive than her low teasing. “I know it’s difficult but I think talking will help.”

 _She thinks I can do this,_ he repeated, a flicker of warmth in his chest. It could not have been easy for her to tell him what happened or to get her feeling off her chest—as flippant she made them seem. Marinette, who never let anyone know she was needed help and always put others first, had admitted to him that she was struggling. Struggling with feelings she didn’t even want to have. She’d been clear from the first moments he’d tried to flirt with her as Chat Noir, way before all of this happened, that she had liked another boy and had no intention of switching course.

His lady was more stubborn than the most cantankerous dog on earth and yet here she was … changing. And maybe he was changing too.

“I yelled at my father today,” he sighed, drawing up his knees.

“Oh. What about?” Marinette sounded casual, as if they were talking about weather.

“Hmm…” The situation was so specific, there was no way she wouldn’t figure out the truth. He spoke slowly, trying to keep the details as vague as possible. “I guess he is a bit controlling. I know he cares but he’s not good at showing it. But instead of telling him that, I just lashed out.”

“You must have had a good reason, Chat.”

“Maybe, I don’t know,” he uttered, rubbing his still damp hair. “It’s not like me to get angry. I don’t think yelling really solves anything. I just—I got fed up I guess, I don’t know. I thought maybe he’d understand if I finally _told_ him but he just looked so … confused. Then he sent me to my room and hasn’t talked to me since.”

“The whole day?” Marinette asked. “Not even during dinner?”

“It happens. We don’t normally eat together. He has work.”

“I’m sorry,” Marinette murmured, her voice caressing his ear. “That must be lonely.”

Adrien noticed that she didn’t even try asking about his mother. Which was … good. He didn’t know if he could handle that. “Yeah. I guess it is.”

“Um … what did you say?” Marinette finally asked in the silence. “That made him confused.”

 _He_ wasn’t even sure what made his dad react that way. “I told him that he was over-reacting to this … work situation. I probably should mention I work _with_ my dad; he’s the one who kind of pushed me into it. But it’s not as bad as it sounds. I like my job most days and I think I’m good at it. Maybe. But he doesn’t seem to think so. He keeps pressuring me and giving me extra tasks.”

“Your dad sounds like a slaver driver,” Marinette said flatly. “Don’t tell me he makes you do all the cleaning and cooking at home too. Do you ever get a break?”

Adrien felt a strange flair of defensiveness. He’d known, ever since they first started being heroes, that Ladybug would be unreasonably pissed if she knew about his home life. It was why he kept it from her. “I’m not some sort of _Chat_ derella, bugaboo.”

“I bet your dad is the type of parent that expects all A’s and that hanging out with friends is a waste of time too,” Marinette said lowly, her voice sounding suspiciously angry.

“That was part of what I yelled at him too. He called one of my friends something bad. He’s told me not to hang out with them before but I disobeyed him. I haven’t exactly been a model citizen lately so he had every right to be mad about it. It’s just … impossible to be perfect.”

 

\---

 

Marinette settled around her pillow, ironically feeling relaxed as he started opening up. Yes, she was pissed that his father was such a tyrannical jerk, but that didn’t stop the relief she got when his voice returned to normal, when she could hear the quiet thoughtfulness within. She thought it terribly sad that he was so defensive of someone who wronged him, that he felt _ashamed_ for standing up for himself. She wanted to tell him he did the right thing but she wasn’t so sure. There was no way of knowing what actually happened to him outside of the mask and if anyone could speak to the ineffective approach of lashing out it was her.

“You don’t have to be perfect,” Marinette soothed instead, thinking he needed her support more than her opinions. She thought maybe she heard him choke and worried if she caused him to cry again. Once again, she felt envious of the way he could so easily slip in jokes and lift the mood.

“But you’re _purr_ fect to me,” she attempted. Then she heard the words play back in her head. Her face flushed with embarrassment and she tried to keep her horrified squeaks silent.

“Um, thanks bugaboo,” he chuckled, before switching to a lower octave. “I think you’re _purr_ fect too.”

“Oh my god kill me that’s so lame,” she squealed, hating the way his voice caressed her ear.

“You’re a _purr_ fect _purr_ agon. Plus, you’re _purr_ ty.”

“Shut up,” she hissed, trying not to laugh.

“But I’m not _kitten!_ I’m _fur real_ , _litter_ ally it’s im _paw_ sible for anyone to hate _mew.”_

“Geez, you’ve used liked half your cat vocabulary, are you done yet?” she snapped, grinning like an idiot. “I suppose you think you can just pun your way out of this conversation.”

“That would be pretty _claw_ some. Imagine having puns so p _urr_ er _fur_ …”

Marinette laughed. “Are you even trying?”

“Excuse _mew_ ," he drawled in mock offence. "Maybe you should get on my level bugaboo. You made ONE pun.”

“And it’s not something I’m proud of. This is what I get for trying to be nice.”

“Aww, bugaboo, don’t feel shy. You can tell me the truth. We both know you like my puns; that’s probably what makes your heart flutter when you’re around me, isn’t it?”

It suddenly became apparently clear how much of a mistake it was telling him she had feelings for him. Everything had been so weird lately that she had forgotten how bad his flirting could get. Now there would be no stopping him. “I’m about to hang up the phone you damn cat.”

“Um, may I remind you that you called me?” He asked, putting on airs.

“A decision I am quickly regretting,” she deadpanned. Then, worried that he would take that seriously, she quickly added, “Anyway, tell me why your dad doesn’t like your friends.”

The change was immediate and Marinette almost regretted her words. He was silent again and she resisted the temptation to say anything, waiting for him to find his words. She tried telling herself that if he didn’t want to talk, he could say as much and she wasn’t asking too much of him. But she didn’t know if she actually believed that.

“I don’t think it’s my friends themselves,” he finally spoke. “My dad doesn’t like anyone getting to close to me. He’s kind of a … nihilist, you could say. He hasn’t seen the best of people so he tends to distrust them. So, his assumption is that my friends are trying to use me.”

“He’s over-protective?” Marinette sussed out, trying to understand his sympathy for the man.

“Mm, well back when … when I was younger, I had some friends who were like that. You know how kids are. They aren’t really good at the whole empathy thing. I kept thinking that they liked me but really, they wanted things or money from me. I thought, stupidly, that it didn’t matter if everyone was happy. So, I didn’t mind getting taken advantage of. But it didn’t end happily.”

 _Wait, so he wasn’t joking when he said he was rich?_ Marinette wasn’t sure what to make of that information. It was almost the opposite of her assumptions: he lived with a single parent, he was always working, some days he looked a smidge too skinny. The information didn’t really change anything and yet her mind clung to it like it was an important detail.

“What happened?”

He took a deep breath. “I heard them saying they pretended to like me and that I was an idiot. So, when I told them I didn’t have anything left to give they walked out.”

Marinette thought of her least favorite fairy tale. “It’s like The Happy Prince.”

“Aw, I am sort of like a prince, aren’t I?”

“You’re insufferable,” she sighed. “It’s a story about a statue of a prince with tons of gemstones on him. The people in the town are poor and this swallow that’s his friend takes his gems to them so they can have money. Eventually, the swallow even plucks out his eyes. Then the bird dies and the statue gets taken down and melted because it’s not pretty anymore. None of the people know what they did for them but the prince doesn’t care and goes to heaven smiling.”

 

\---

 

Adrien wrapped up in his blanket, feeling chill and hollow, not really sure what he should say to her depressing fairy tale. He hadn’t even told Nino about his childhood friends; just told him he didn’t have time to keep the friendships because he got into modeling so young. He had been afraid Nino might think him pitiful if he knew the truth and he liked that Nino never asked him for things. If he did, Adrien wasn’t entirely sure he would be able to say no.

“It always made me so mad,” Marinette continued. “I thought he should stand up or say something. Someone that kind shouldn’t just be tossed aside like trash. Makes me so mad that someone even wrote that crap. I’m even more upset that it happens. I can’t believe those awful kids.”

“Kids are just kids,” he defended. “They probably got told to do it by their parents.”

“That’s even worse! You’d think their parents would try to show them some decency. If my mom learned I was stealing from a rich friend she’d make me work to get the money back and take it with a formal apology. Why would you even pretend to like someone? That’s so hurtful!”

Adrien smiled, feeling warmed by her fiery passion. “I bet if you were there you would have fought them.”

She surprised him with a snort. “I could see that. I was kind of a brat growing up.”

Adrien could just imagine her with little bandages from scuffles, those iconic pigtails, her cheeks puffed up with irritation and tiny fists clenched. He wondered if she liked wearing dresses or shorts. If her interest for fashion came later. “I wanna see kid pictures of you; I bet you were adorable. And feisty.”

“You really don’t,” she protested with a groan. “My mom takes the worst pictures. Half of them have me naked or stuffing my face with cake. It’s not flattering. And when I say brat, I really mean brat. I would have been akumatized every single day; I’m sure.”

“I doubt it, my lady. You’re too miraculous,” he teased, trying not to think about the countless child akumas they had to deal with. Those were always the worst. It made him upset that Hawkmoth would target someone who couldn't fight back. Even more upset that they couldn't prevent it. “All my pictures are _purr_ fect. Naturally. Even as a toddler the camera loved me. I’m just that fabulous.”

“How do you say that kind of stuff with a straight face?” Marinette snorted. “And you’re getting off subject AGAIN. Damn, you’re good at that.”

“Caught me,” he grinned, unashamed. “Why talk about such unpleasant stuff anyway? I’d much rather hear about your cake stuffing escapades.”

“Sure, if you tell me the real reason your dad doesn’t eat with you,” Marinette bargained, surprising him yet again. “I know you said he has work but it just doesn’t add up. If he’s that over-involved and protective of you then why would he not be there? Also, you two work together, right?”

A memory flashed of the sunlight pouring through the curtains, his mother laughing as her fork almost slipped from her fingers, his father smiling over a glass of wine, the piano tracks she liked to play in the background because she said “ _if we are going to be fancy, we might as well go all the way”_. He swallowed down the feeling, knowing very well what his father ran from.

“He, um …” Adrien struggled, trying to find a balance between truth and pleasantness.

“Red?”

He nodded stiffly, even though she couldn’t see him. “Another night maybe.”

“Remember that time you had to come eat dinner at my house and my parents thought we were dating?” Marinette spoke up after some silence passed. “My dad couldn’t stop feeding you. Before you came he kept saying, “that cat boy is so skinny. He needs to eat if he wants to fight Hawkmoth”. My mom was just kept making fun of me when no one was listening; I thought I was going to die. At least you don’t have to go through that again.”

Adrien was grateful. Not just for having the memory, but for the way she effortlessly dragged him away to it. “Honestly, that was ridiculously fun. I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Your parents are hilarious. Plus, seeing you get flustered was totally worth it.”

“But you didn’t know I was Ladybug back then, did you?”

“If I had, do you think I would have turned you down?” He pointed out.  “Why _did_ you confess like that anyway? You didn’t actually have a crush on me.”

“…would you laugh if I said it was because I thought you were going to figure out my identity?”

“Wow, that worked out well,” he teased. “How many fake confessions have you gone through?”

“Just the one and a lot of really stupid plans to confess,” she sighed. “God, you’d laugh if you knew some of the shit Alya and I came up with. But every time I get near the guy I like I get tongue-tied.”

Something about that made his ear twitch and he tried to envision her with her crush. But he'd never seen her get like that with anyone. “I can’t imagine you at a loss for words.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that up again...”

“It’s fine,” Adrien eased. “I asked. I already know you like him.”

“Literally, I'm the worst person ever,” she groaned. “It’s probably for the better I haven’t confessed to him. I used to be scared that he’d laugh at me. Now it’s like what would I do if he DID say yes? He’s got a lot of girls that are into him and, let me tell you, they are waaaay better looking than me. I bet his secret girlfriend is actually some beautiful foreign model or something.”

“He sounds like a playboy,” Adrien grumbled, mad that this loser couldn’t even notice the best girl in the world was in love with him. Plus, he had no idea that Lothario was Marinette’s type. Maybe that was why she’d finally noticed Chat. Except, he barely had any experience with girls outside of work let alone dating experience. The one time he had kissed a girl he had been akumatized and didn’t remember it. He wondered how she would feel if she knew his firsts were with her? Part of him thought she might like that. 

“Maybe he is,” she mumbled. “I wish I didn’t care. Tikki says it’s okay but I feel so disloyal.”

“Why? I had a crush on two girls,” Adrien confessed slyly. “Of course, fate would have it that they were the _same_ girl but I understand where you are coming from.”

“Don’t try to be cute. You only noticed me because I happened to be Ladybug.” He could almost see the eye roll.

“That’s not true,” Adrien protested, hating that she doubted herself. “I almost gave up on Ladybug for you.”

“You? The most stubborn cat in all Paris? I doubt it.” Yet her tone had softened.

Adrien felt the blush rise to his cheeks. “I mean, I’ve always sort of liked you. You’re super cute and talented and brave and funny—well, not intentionally but I think you’re pretty funny. You and Alya could honestly host a comedy show if you wanted to. You get so snappy when you’re flustered.”

Disbelief tinged her tone. “You actually liked me?”

“How could I not? You are so specifically my type it’s unreal. I kept trying to ignore you but I couldn’t help—” Adrien cut himself off. She didn’t need to know that he purposefully asked Nino and Alya to invite them to hang out so he could have an excuse to talk to her. It was already bad enough that they knew how hopeless he was.

“Wait, is that why you kept calling me princess and flexing all the time?” She asked, her voice rising with disbelief. “For a while I thought you did that with every girl. But Alya laughed when I told her.”

“Man, I had to take what opportunities I could get. It’s not like I could have done that outside of the mask.”

“Why?”

Adrien sucked in a breath. Marinette would have been horrified that the boy she hated was into her. Yeah, she seemed okay with him now, but was it even possible for her to respond to him as Adrien? He felt that familiar Chat Noir smirk as he slowly asked,“Why, do you want me to?”

When she didn’t respond he thought maybe he’d gone too far. He tried to think of someway to backtrack the question, but he didn't know how. 

“I-I sh-should probably go to bed. It’s getting really late,” she stammered out. “I hope you feel better. You know you can always text me if you need someone to listen.”

“Sure, okay,” he breathed, knowing that would have to be enough. She'd already done so much more than he could have hoped. 

“And, um, youcanifyouwantto.” Click.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, the comfort side of that complicated conversation. We got the communicate everyone has been waiting for :D It's also nice to see them back to their normal banter and flow as they finally get off the angst train. 
> 
> It's probably weird hearing Adrien defending his father but honestly I can't imagine him ever smack-talking him. I hope came off as realistic in this chapter. Just not being alone is huge for him and, despite his brooding, he really is just a happy-go-lucky guy. I had to make up for the lack of puns in recent chapters. Sorry not sorry haha. 
> 
> Hope you guys enjoyed the crush conversation and some foreshadowing about how Chat discovered her identity and began this whole clusterfuck. I'm sure we all know where this new suggestion of hers is going ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°).
> 
> Oh, "The Happy Prince" is a real semi-modern fairy tale written by Oscar Wilde for anyone interested. It's morally complex and depressing examination of sacrifice, appearances, and the meaning of kindness.


	33. Truth Hurts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Adrien has the genes of a calculating criminal mastermind.

Adrien rolled out of bed, awkwardly fumbling for the alarm with a shaky hand as his head started to throb. He tapped his phone screen and it fell off the nightstand, vibrating on the ground.

“Ugh, turn it off, turn it off!” Plagg cried from the nook in his shoulder.

“’m trying,” Adrien grumbled, sitting up to swing his foot over the screen. He let out a large yawn and almost let himself fall back on the fluffy mattress. Then he remembered the yesterday’s fight, the cold water clinging to his arms, Marinette’s breathy voice before she hung up.

“Shit, I’m going to be late!” He burst out, staring at the snooze warning he’d tapped.

“Do we _have_ to go to school?” Plagg whined, as Adrien skid into the bathroom and started fumbling with his toothbrush. “You got like maybe two hours of sleep and your dad is probably going to ground you anyway. Natalie’s not even pounding on the door yet.”

Like clockwork, knuckles rapped the door. “Adrien, are you alright?”

“Fine!” He garbled between foamy paste and mint.

“Well, you missed breakfast but if you hurry up you can still be on time for class.”

Adrien rinsed, looking up at the gaunt face staring back at him. His eyes were puffy from crying and dark crescents stuck out underneath. His hair was almost wavy from drying on his pillow and sticking up on one side. “Father said I can go?”

“He didn’t say you couldn’t,” Natalie answered mysteriously. “I’ll be waiting by the front door.”

Adrien yanked open the drawer and searched for some concealer and toner. It wouldn’t do to make Natalie suspicious, especially if his father was serious about monitoring him during the night. Plagg threw some clothes in his general direction as he finished touching up his face and he rushed down the stairs as he brushed his hair into submission. He skid to a halt when he almost ran into his father.

“Oh, uh …” Adrien trailed off, tucking his brush away into his bad. “Good morning.”

“Are you feeling better?”

The question was as surprising as it was late. “Yeah, I think so.”

Gabriel straightened his cravat, his movement stiffed and forced. “Your shoot has been rescheduled to tomorrow. Come straight home after fencing.”

Adrien wasn’t sure what to make of it. Usually he let Natalie tell him his daily activities. “Okay?”

“I talked with that Rossi girl,” Gabriel answered, moving to adjust his cuff links. “She won’t be making any more public appearances for a while. If you can convince your … friend Ms. Bourgeios to behave more … conservatively, it would be much appreciated. I am trusting you to do the right thing.”

Adrien stared at Natalie as if she could provide some sort of answer. She was always doing that, talking for his father, softening the blow, translating the meaning behind his subtleties. But all she offered was a subtle smile before her glasses reflected the sheen of her tablet. 

“You didn’t threaten Lila, did you?” Adrien asked, his tone wary. Lila caused a lot of problems, sure, but threatening her would only cause that much more.

“I merely mentioned that it would be unpleasurable for my son to be associating with a media martyr and that Agreste family has always relied on talent rather than reputation to speak for us.”

 _Huh,_ Adrien felt his brow furrow. His father had said as much before but the meaning never really sunk it. After all, he spoke on and on about image all the time. But … Adrien’s job _was_ his image. Still, something about the whole thing was weird. His father was notorious for never leaving his house or giving interviews. Why would he meet up with some teenage girl?

“What did she say when she approached you in the first place?”

“Ms. Rossi expressed her interest in your wellbeing and mentioned some of your friends were leading you into bad habits,” his father explained, his eyes narrowing at the reminder. “She said she would provide details _if_ I could arrange a meeting. I have reason to believe her company would be preferable considering your choices in friends.”

Adrien bristled at that, sharply breathing in to hold his tongue.

“I … may have misjudged the situation,” Gabriel finally concluded, staring at the wall behind him instead of meeting his eyes. Adrien felt his heart warm. Yes, it was awkward and cold and stiff but … it was an _attempt_. His father wasn’t shutting him down or sending him to his room or lecturing his ears off and that alone was reason to keep any snide comments bottled.

“You’ll be late,” he chastised, looking at his wristwatch. “Stay out of trouble.”

“Yes, father,” Adrien smiled, walking past him to step down the stairs. Then, thinking better, he turned on his heel, staring up at him. “Do you think … would you be available for dinner tonight?”

“I will have to check my schedule,” Gabriel answered, staring off into the shadows. The usual disappointment settled on him, the familiar weight blanketing his shoulders. He continued down the stairs and followed Natalie out the door, knowing he’d have to weather whatever storm Chloe, Lila, and his disappearance had wrought.

 _But,_ he told himself, with a bit of cheer. _Maybe I can talk to Marinette today._

 

\--

 

Marinette slid into her seat, fighting off the call of sleep, only to find her head nestled on her arm. Alya was talking over her, growing annoyingly louder with each word.

“…man you told me the pain meds weren’t that bad! Did you stay up late again working on that new project? You barely got home and you can’t even relax can you?”

“I’m relaxing now,” Marinette murmured, turning enough to smile up at her.

“PLACE AND TIME,” Alya emphasized with two hands, looking like a passionate grade school teacher. Her other classmates had waved to her in welcome, already gathering around to prime her with questions she didn’t want to answer. Marinette should have just stayed home and told her parents she needed an extra day to recover. They would have let her if she asked.

But then she might miss Chat. 

“You’re hopeless,” Alya grinned, giving her a light push as she slouched in her chair. “I guess you’ll figure out later then, don’t knock a girl out for trying.”

Marinette was going to ask for clarification on that when she heard Chloe noisily saying,

“Yeah, whatever, Dupain lame will be there later. Did you really see Lena talking to Damocles?”

“Whose Lena?” Kim asked, letting out a small “hey!”.

“Chloe’s just being jealous,” Alix added snidely. “But yeah, we saw her. Bet she’s finally going to stay in Paris now that things are official. Alya you’re gonna have to do damage control, all right?”

“Since when am I in charge?” Alya demanded, kicking her foot up on the table. “If she wants to rub it in Marinette’s face then that’s her own damn fault. There’s no point being rude about it.”

Marinette slowly blinked, turning to stare at Alya. _What the hell are they talking about?_ _Did I miss something when I was out?_

“It’s so sad though,” Rose sniffed. “I always thought Marinette would be the one.”

“We all did,” Juleka soothed.

“Stop talking like I died,” Marinetted grumbled, sitting up to glare at everybody. “What the hell are you all talking about anyway? What’s with all the whispers and stuff?”

It reminded her of middle school and how the other girls would grow quiet when she passed by. _What if they don’t like me anymore?_ Lila _had_ said she’d make everyone hate her. Had she actually been able to say something to them? They were friendly enough yesterday when they gave her the card.

“Dudes, just be cool, okay? I’m sure my bro will straighten it out. Everyone needs to stop treating him like he’s some crazy rare Pokemon. He’s just a dude like the rest of us,” Nino said calmly, his body language almost similar to Alya’s. Marinette had once read that couples started mirroring each other’s movements if they spent too much time together but she’d never really thought that was a thing until now. But, sure enough, Nino was taking a stand and Alya was stepping back.

 _Weird._ Marinette hoped she wouldn’t grow a penchant for cat puns.

“According to the recent news polls, he’s in the top twenty for most attractive men on the planet,” Max lectured, listing off a string of statistics. “Highly unusual for a high schooler.”

“Um, what are you guys talking about?” Adrien asked from the doorway. Marinette immediately looked at him, somehow surprised when he looked the same as always. Everyone grew so silent a pin could drop. Adrien actually looked uncomfortable, his eyes darting to everyone’s face as he gripped his bag. Marinette felt the urge to stand up and say something but she herself wasn’t quite sure what happened.

“Just stupid stuff,” Nino dismissed, clapping Adrien on the back as he set down his bag. “You’re kind of even more famous if you can believe it.”

“That’s tabloids,” Adrien sighed with a soft smile. But it didn’t quite meet his eyes and she wanted to know what he was hiding beneath them. Then, noticing her attention, he turned to look at her. Immediately, his smile softened and she drew a sharp breath, the sudden change only making his forest green eyes glow that much brighter.

“Hey, you feeling okay?” He asked, stroking her hair. Marinette blinked, staring at his hand, not quite sure if she hadn’t actually fallen asleep or not. He noticed the look and immediately dropped his hand.

“Sorry, you just look so cute when you’re sleepy,” he chuckled, rubbing his neck. This caused a bit of whispers behind them and even Alya was staring at him like he grew two heads. _Did he just call me cute? Did he just pet me? What the fuck is going on?_ Marinette was quickly starting to rethink her decision to come to school. 

Adrien himself acted as if this was all perfectly normal. “I hope you’re feeling better.”

Marinette felt her face burn. “Th-th-th…anks.”

“Adrien, you’re back!” Lila shouted behind him, draping her arms on his shoulder. She had the same shifty eyes and wide grin as usual. “I was so worried when you disappeared! I was so worried you got hurt I could barely breathe. And then all the mean things the media has been saying about us! Can you believe it?”

Adrien subtly moved towards Nino, his smile almost Halloween stretched. “Hi, Lila. I’m surprised to see you here. What’s going on?”

“Uh, hello, we talked about it,” Lila sighed, hand on her hip. “It’s okay; you were probably too worried to remember. I decided you were right about being open about our relationship so I decided to re-enroll in class. Now we can spend every day together!”

Marinette frowned, not sure if she was more bothered by the fact that Lila was talking down to him and making him uncomfortable in public or the fact that she was lying and everyone was hanging on her every word. _At least,_ Marinette supposed, _she’s drawn the attention off me._ Chloe scoffed in the background.

“Oh, please, go back to the jungle and hang out with the monkeys. You might actually have a chance of getting them to listen to you.”

Marinette gaped. Chloe was all for belittling others by talking about how awesome she was. But she had never delivered such a pointed insult with that much vitriol behind it. Even Adrien looked shocked.

“Oh, Chloe, I’m so glad you remembered my time in Nepal,” Lila clapped, looking pleased as punch. “Everyone always says you don't care, but you really do pay attention, don't you? You’d be surprised how intelligent monkeys are; some of them could even learn sign language. Which is more than I can say for others.”

“Here’s a sign for you,” Chloe snapped, lifting up her finger. Sabrina put a hand on her shoulder, giving Lila and Adrien a panicked look as she whispered for her to stop.

 “Jealousy is a terrible color on you, Chloe,” Lila said coolly. “Just because I’m dating Adrien doesn’t mean I’ll get in the way of your friendship. Then again, childhood friends usually outgrow each other.”

Chloe slapped a hand on her desk and stood up. “My father could have you banned from Paris—”

“It’s so troubling how easily our government officials can be so corrupt,” Lila interrupted, her firm voice growing louder. “I guess the apple doesn't fall far from the tree."

“Girl fight!” Kim shouted, making bets with Max. The rest of the class started growing louder, rising to Lila’s defense and slinging insults at Chloe. Marinette knew, as class president, she should probably intervene. Ms. Mendeliev _had_ said it was her job to make sure everyone was treated fairly. But considering how many times Chloe had picked on her and how awful Lila had been lately she couldn’t find the heart to do it. She almost found herself wanting to see how the whole thing played out, maybe even enjoying the fact that Chloe was so easily able to express what she herself could not.

“That’s enough,” Adrien snapped, causing everyone to quiet. “Lila, let’s talk in the hall.”

“But Adrien did you hear what she—”

Adrien looked eerily similar to his dad as she uttered. “Now.”

Lila shrugged, walking toward the door with her hands in her pockets, completely unaffected by the whole debacle. Chloe, meanwhile, looked ready to break through Sabrina’s firm hold and slap a bitch.

“It’ll be fine Chloe,” Adrien said, his neutral tone as comforting as a warning. He went down the steps and followed Lila out the door, turning back to give the class one last look before he left. Their eyes met and it was almost like he was trying to tell her something. She remembered the strange hospital visit, the earnestness of his tone as he insisted that Lila was not his girlfriend. But, before she could read his expression, he stepped outside.

Chloe turned and snapped, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Marinette blinked. “Excuse me?”

“HELLLOOOO? You were the one complaining about what a liar she was and now you’re just going to sit there looking stupid? That’s why she got akumatized, isn’t it? You have proof that she’s lying, right?”

“Um,” Marinette grew uncomfortable as everyone waited for her to start with her normal accusations. It wasn’t like she didn’t have grounds for it. Yet, she found herself hesitating, thinking about the way that Chat had quietly admitted his own regret for being reckless to his father, contemplating the way Adrien exited the room and how he told Chloe it would be fine or that look had met, or the way Adrien had candidly explained the situation in the hospital. Even more mysterious, she found herself thinking about Chat’s note he’d left with the flowers, telling her that he would “take care of it.”

Part of her wondered if _he_ had been the one to tell Chloe what Lila had done. Maybe Chat had started this whole media frenzy to help Adrien. Even knowing Marinette had a crush on him, Chat was still a good person and this sort of trickery seemed right in line with his mischievous side. For all she knew, that was why he was so quick to agree that Adrien was a player.

Maybe …

“Uh, hello? Don’t ignore me Dupain-Cheng!” Chloe snapped, her shrill voice ringing in her ear.

Maybe Chat actually _knew_ Adrien personally. Both of them were rich, apparently, and they had similar features. Maybe he was related to Adrien and that was why he closed up whenever he came up.  

“Bae is still stunned that he called her cute,” Alya teased, pinched Marinette’s cheek. “Even though I call you cute every god damn day. Focus, girl! There’s a mystery and we’re trying to get to the bottom of it. First, Lila didn’t want anyone to know, now she wants everyone to know. And then Chloe here complicated everything with her damn meme.”

“Excusez moi,” Chloe snapped sarcastically, throwing up her hands. “Lia started it first!”

“That’s kind of true, Als,” Nino added, scrolling on his phone. “And there were already some girls using that hashtag before Chloe did. Chloe probably just gave it the extra boost because she’s famous.”

“Maybe we should wait until Adrien gets back,” Marinette finally said, aware of how everyone focused on her. “I don’t really know what happened since I was in the hospital and I sort of jumped to conclusions when I talked to Lila a few days ago. Instead of coming up with theories shouldn’t we wait to hear it directly from the source?”

Alya raised a brow but nodded, “Girl, that’s the most sensible thing you’ve said this morning.”

“Whatever, sounds good to me,” Chloe dismissed, as their teacher walked in.

Marinette took a deep breath. Somehow, she knew, if Chat were there, he’d be proud of her.

 

\---

 

Adrien stared across the hall at Lila, hands in his pockets, noticing the distance she kept between them. Just like the fake date, it seemed like her interest in him only cropped up with other people. It made him wonder why she was so insistent on this whole charade in the first place.

“You really messed up, Agreste,” Lila started, cleaning her nail. With her relaxed air and low threats, she almost seemed like some mafia boss. In another situation, he might have laughed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he started, trying to measure the stakes. “Maybe you can break it down for me.”

“Uh, hello, you _should_ have immediately taken my side when the media started attacking me. Our deal was that you would hold up the image of a perfect boyfriend and I would keep your little secret.”

“Lila, even if I went to the media to take your side it wouldn’t have helped,” Adrien reasoned, knowing it would only cause more contention if she knew he had been helping Chloe with her scheme. “It would have just snowballed things further. They would have expected more interviews or accused me of covering up or—”

“We should have just done interviews then,” Lila stamped her feet. “Look, if you don’t go in there and at least straighten things out with the class then I’ll tell Marinette about your little crush today.”

“Fine, go ahead,” Adrien snapped back, pissed that she was still threatening him. “Save me the trouble.”

Lila balked at that. “Really? You won’t like what she has to say.”

“Look, I’m sure anything she does will be one hundred percent better then forcing myself to tolerate being in your presence,” he said slowly, letting his words sink in.

Once he said it, he felt the stress lift from his shoulders. Because, he finally realized, even if Marinette _didn’t_ like him, he trusted her. Even with all her blustering and strange remarks and avoidance she’d never been cruel. He was starting to think that maybe he had misjudged her. Maybe she was intimidated by his role in the fashion industry or maybe she was worried about his friendship with Chloe; after all, they didn’t really get along. If he had just asked her about it, they might have resolved the issue a long time ago. But he had been too much of a coward and just let the fissure between them widen. Being Chat had allowed him to see the way she awkwardly hid her worries behind jabs and criticisms, how she secretly worried about everyone around her, how hard she tried to be a good friend. She had been right when she told him he couldn’t hide everything inside forever and even though she hadn’t known she was talking to Adrien that didn’t make her words any less true.

“You asshole,” Lila uttered, brow furrowing as her fists clenched. “You’re lucky to know me.”

“How so? You’ve caused a rift between the class, created a large media scandal, damaged my relationship with my father, and hurt the girl I love. Am I supposed to be grateful?”

“Yeah, considering I haven’t told your father about it,” Lila blustered, trying to hold her ground as sweat dotted her face. “You know he’s not going to think that a common bakery girl is good enough for you, especially when he learns about all the awful stuff, she’s done.”

“I highly doubt my father is going to listen to the advice of a, what did he call you again?” Adrien pretended to pause, noticing the way her eyes clouded with doubt. “Oh, right, a media martyr. My father has always said he dislikes how desperate people cling to their betters. Now that he knows you were just using him to get five seconds of fame, he’s probably going to assume everything you’re saying is a lie. In fact, he’d probably prefer if I denounce you on live television and explain how the whole scandal started in the first place. I don’t think he cares about the details as long as everything is tidy.”

Lila crossed her arms and leaned back. “Are you threatening me?”

“No, of course not,” Adrien said easily, relaxing into a model slouch. “Why would I threaten my friend?”

“Girlfriend,” Lila corrected with a slight pause, something calculating in her gaze.

“See, I thought that since we were such good friends, you’d let everyone know that the whole thing was a misunderstanding that the media blew out of proportion,” Adrien informed her, amused by the dozens of shifts in her expression as she realized the hole she had dug herself. “I thought, being friends, I’d give you the chance to let everyone know we weren’t dating.”

“So, either I tell a story or you tell a story,” Lila ascertained, with a slight nod of the chin.

“Even if I tell the truth, it’s not going to look good,” Adrien explained, frowning as he imagined the way the whole school would treat her. Hell, how all of Paris would treat her. No one deserved to be doxed and bullied that way. He sincerely hoped he wouldn't have to make good on his bluff. “Since lying is what you do best, I thought I’d give you the chance.”

Lila sighed, staring up at the ceiling. “One chance, huh?”

Adrien nodded, holding out his hand. “Do we have a deal?”

“Okay, fine,” Lila answered, shaking his hand. “But we’re still friends, right?”

“As long as you want to be,” Adrien brokered, clapping her shoulder. “I’ve always thought you’d be a good friend if you took your ability to read others and used it more positively.”

Lila shrugged out of his grip, looking disgusted. “I’d rather play the world to my benefit than sacrifice myself to the world like you do Agreste. You should show your backbone more often. I could almost date you for real.”

“Thanks,” he huffed, as she walked away, her hair swishing back and forth like a mischievous fox tail. Adrien followed after, brimming with anticipation as he imagined just how Lila would break it to the class. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ohohoho, Lila has finally met with, and lost, to a worthy foe. Let's see how this all plays out for her. 
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed a little bit of Gabriel awkwardness as well as Chloe trying to stand up for her friend. There's a lot to unpack here and I hope it doesn't feel too rushed, haha. I'm excited to see all the comments on this whirlwind situation. Poor Marinette is just stumbling along through this mess. 
> 
> At least we were able to finally conclude that Adrien and Chat are, in fact, cousins.


	34. Pushing Limits

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Lying liars, picture memes, awkward flirting, and sizzling sword fights

Marinette could scarcely believe what she was hearing. 

“We only met at the restaurant because I wanted to see how he was doing after all the media frenzy,” Lila sniffed, blinking back tears before they could damage her perfect eyeliner. “I had just gotten back to Paris and that was all I heard about. I didn’t realize people would misconstrue the facts and think that we were actually an item.”

Adrien stood a few feet away from Lila, his brow lifting as she continued her story. Ms. Bustier had a wry smile behind them, probably the only teacher in the entire school that would let her English class turn into a giant emotional sharing session.

“Yeah, you certainly helped that with your twitter post,” Chloe snarked, foot tapping wildly. It made Marinette wonder what Lila had done to make her so upset. Chloe usually didn’t bother with people unless she was trying to make herself seem better but Lila had done nothing but shower her with false praise until aggravated. Weirder still, she almost seemed like she was trying to hold her temper in.

“See, after our conversation, I thought it might be better to have the media redirected,” Lila latched on, looking determined as she bent the insult to her whims. “Adrien mentioned a lot of strange girls were clinging to him and I thought if he had a fake girlfriend then he would get some peace. I didn’t know it would make things worse.”

“Ugh, I can’t believe I have to listen to this crap,” Chloe seethed. For once, Marinette felt like they agreed on something. “Can you just stop before I lose more brain cells?”

“Chloe!” Bustier interjected, trying her best to look cross. “I know Lila has been abroad for most of her enrollment but she is still a member of this class and we will still show her respect. I, for one, think it is admirable that she is the type of person who can admit her wrongs. It takes a lot of bravery to stand in front of others and describe your mistakes. Give her the courtesy of listening, please.”

“Thank you,” Lila simpered, clutching her chest. Some members of the class sighed at her good-natured candor and Marinette felt her jaw tick as she resisted the urge to go up and strangle her.

“I’m being honest because I don’t want to ruin any of our friendships,” Lila sighed, putting on a show of regaining her nerve. “The truth is that I lied to help him. It’s appalling how obsessive everyone is with his private affairs. There are so many girls mistreating him out of twisted obsession.”

Marinette noticed the bitch staring her down as she said this.

“I have noticed this as well,” Bustier brokered, putting a hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “I know it may be intimidating to have a celebrity classmate, but I think it’s past the time of alienating him. Adrien has been a steady member of this class for a long time and has shown nothing but humility and respect for everyone here. I, for one, would like it if all conversations of this rumor cease. It’s enough that Adrien has to deal with this sort of backlash in public and online. Let not bring it into our school.”

Adrien seemed pale and his eyes met nothing as the complacent smile he held stiffened. Bustier was the nicest teacher they had and her willingness to help her students grow as human beings made it impossible to take her criticisms resentfully. Then again, Marinette felt she might feel anxious too if the teacher specifically pointed out how different she was, even if that came from a place of kindness.

“You’re right, Miss Bustier!” Lila agreed. “I’m sure the rumor will die down if we leave it alone.”

“And after your official social media post you told me you were writing,” Adrien added, his tone oddly chipper. “I really appreciate how far you are willing to go to fix a mistake.”

It was like the room dropped ten degrees. _Holy crap, is that what Adrien looks like when he’s mad?_ His smile was the same perfect one it always was and yet it had suddenly turned threatening, like staring at the maw of a giant shark. Though his voice was friendly it held none of the warmth he was so natural at. Lila stiffened, her own expression looking just as fake.

“Of course, you know I’d do anything for my _best_ friend.”

Marinette almost choked. Chloe was outright cackling.

“Is something funny, Ms. Bourgeois?”

“I’m just— so ha-happy everyone is, pfft, friends,” Chloe managed between laughs.

“Don’t worry about it, Ms. Bustier,” Adrien interjected. “I think we should get back to class.”

“Right, of course, you can go sit down,” the kind teacher instructed. Marinette watched Adrien settle into his seat, not at all surprised when Alya pressed up against her with a notebook.

 _Girl, you were totally right! They aren’t dating!_ She wrote.

 _Yeah, obviously._ Marinette wrote back.

_I think you did the right thing letting them talk it out._

Marinette smiled, thinking the same thing. They went back to the lecture and she found herself relaxing, falling back into the sense of normalcy she hadn’t felt in a long time. Absentmindedly, she doodled in the margins, wondering if maybe Chat was in a different class or if she would come visit her at lunch. Little did she know, the whole school would be too riled up to give him the chance.

“My turn, my turn!” Rose squealed, shuffling by Adrien’s shoulder. She put on duck lips and Adrien threw a peace sign as he clicked her phone. They took three more before they got the right shot, with Adrien calmly explaining face angles as she pouted away at the lens.

“What the hell?” Marinette asked, her baguette forgotten in her hand as she stared across the quad.

“Oh, it’s part of the meme,” Alya explained, slurping on noodles. “You probably saw posts but I don’t think you were included on the class text. Sabrina had told us that Adrien’s dad was going to pull him out of school and make him break up with Lila if he knew they were dating. So, everyone has been trying to take fake pictures with him to bury the trail.”

“But, uh, they aren’t dating,” Marinette pointed out, watching as Juleka hid behind Adrien, only the remnants of her purple hair showing in the picture as Rose snapped an artistic shot almost reminiscent of Ju-On. _Why would Sabrina text everyone? She only does Chloe’s bidding._ Marinette chewed slowly, looking over at Chloe and Sabrina who were laughing at some sort of joke between them as they scrolled on their cell phones. 

“Yes, well, you know how his dad is,” Alya dismissed with a wave of a hand. “He might still think Lila is Adrien’s girlfriend no matter what anyone tries to tell him; you have to admit, the whole thing is really suspicious. I’d lie too if it meant not breaking up. Nino said the pictures were probably a good idea, even if Sabrina texted it, so we’re going along with it. That and it’s kind of funny.”

Marinette raised a brow as Mylene put a matching flower crown on Adrien’s head and Ivan sulked in the corner. “It’s weird is what it is. His dad’s just going to think he plays around with girls.”

“Hm, I guess so,” Alya shrugged. “But Adrien looks like he’s having fun.”

Sure enough, Adrien was laughing at something Mylene whispered in his ear as Alix took the shot. He looked way more relaxed than he had in the classroom. It was nice to see him smiling and interacting with all of their classmates. Normally he was too busy cramming in extra study sessions or disappearing for random jobs. Even the guys were hanging around, giving him playful grief over his popularity and asking for advice with girls. Adrien, bless him, took shot after shot, even with underclassmen and teachers. Maybe he was used to it; he was a model after all, he took pictures with beautiful women all the time.

“So, are you going to take one with him?” Alya asked, leaning into her space so their shoulders brushed. “Or will your internet boyfriend get suuuuper jealous?”

Marinette blushed. “No, geez, Alya.”

“Uh oh, you didn’t deny it,” Alya pressured, nudging her arm with her elbow. “Did those flowers he left finally win your heart? Is he secretly the boy of your dreams?”

It took Marinette a minute to remember that she had lied about the flowers Adrien gave her and said they were from the internet boyfriend. She felt bad about it but there was no way Alya would give either of them peace if she knew; doubtless she’d try to get Marinette to confess again and Marinette was starting to think Adrien had brought them out of politeness. There was no way he even realized how much her heart was twisting over him; he was probably used to getting confessions from girls, especially with his recent surge in popularity. Her heart broke at the thought of him trying to politely let her down without hurting her feelings. Then the guilt followed, her mind trying to wrap around the fact that her heart wouldn’t listen and let go of him.

“Alya, it’s no big deal, people give each other flowers when they are sick,” Marinette repeated firmly. “When are you going to let this go?”

“When you stop being so weird about it,” Alya teased, giving her a wink. “Look, all joking aside, I still think this anonymous dude is into you but you’ve already said you aren’t interested. Adrien, meanwhile, is, as you have so clearly stated before, the love of your life AND waiting to take a photo with you.”

Marinette felt her heart sink. She wanted to tell Alya everything but she knew the truth would only jeopardize Chat’s identity. As his partner it was her responsibility to keep him safe, even if it meant keeping up this charade. “I don’t know Alya; I’ll probably mess it up like I usually do.”

“C’mon, all you gotta do is stand there. No talking required,” Alya started nudging her in the stomach with her elbow, eyebrows wiggling playfully. “I bet you’ll look super cute.”

Marinette frowned, knowing that maybe a few days ago she might have said yes. But no, if Chat saw that picture, he’d know that she was still pining and would push her away again. She told him she was going to put in effort, damn it, and effort meant not purposefully flirting with Adrien. As far as she was concerned, the further away she stayed from him, the better. 

“I just don’t want to, okay?”

Alya gaped at her. “Who the hell are you and what have you done with my precious baby? She would never turn down an opportunity to be near her true love and boy crush A—”

“Damn, Alya, say it louder so the whole school can hear,” Marinette hissed.

“Gurl, the whole school knows,” she laughed. “Except Adrien of course.”

“What don’t I know?” Adrien asked nervously, standing in front of them. Marinette fumbled, throwing her lunch, watching in terror as Adrien deftly caught her sandwich and dodged her water bottle before it splashed on the ground. She gaped, surprised at how fluidly he moved his body.

“Sorry, couldn’t save it all,” he chuckled, handing her sandwich back to her. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No problem,” Marinette squeaked, noticing the way his fingers lingered before they pulled back.

“You, uh, don’t know how jealous everyone was of Lila,” Alya blustered, trying to save the situation before Marinette said something stupid. She was so, so grateful Alya was quick on her toes. “There are so many girls who would kill to be your girlfriend. Are you still looking for one?”

“Um…” Adrien blushed, eyes flickering to Marinette for some reason. _Gosh, he probably thinks we’re making fun of him or something. Damn it, Alya._ “Thanks, but you already have Nino.”

“Babe, I’m literally right here,” Nino said, in mock offense, pulling out his earbuds as he noticed Adrien’s arrival. “Can you at least try to cheat on me when I’m not in viewing distance?”

“Bae, I can’t help it that Adrien is a sexy as sin supermodel. You just gotta get on that level,” Alya teased, squeezing his bicep. “Are you gonna let me take a #adriensrealgirlfriend picture with him? I’m promise I’ll be good if you let me, ‘kay?”

Nino rolled his eyes and looked up from his phone. “Only if I get to take one too.”

“Bro…” Adrien sniffed, looking flattered. “You don’t have to let me borrow your girlfriend to take pictures with me, man. You know you’re always my number one.”

“Bro,” Nino sighed, holding out his hand. Alya groaned, slapping it away.

“Pretending to be gay is actually trivializing to LGBTQ—”

“Actually, babe, we’re crushing toxic masculinity and normalizing bro love.”

Alya and Nino proceeded to get into another furious political debate, the only real time Nino seemed to get serious about something, and Adrien put his hands in his pockets, smiling down at her.

“So, uh, were you jealous too?”

Marinette raised a brow. He looked…up to something. “Jealous of what?”

His eyes shifted to Alya and back as he nervously rubbed his neck. “What Alya said.”

“But you told me you weren’t dating Lila,” Marinette answered slowly, wondering what in the world he was thinking. “Why would I be jealous?”

“Right,” Adrien uttered, growing pink. “This whole thing is kind of stupid isn’t it?”

“Yeah, a little bit,” Marinette agreed sarcastically. “At least Lila backed off, right?”

“Yeah,” Adrien breathed, smiling again. It was weird how he kept throwing breathtaking smiles at her, as if she had done something to make him incredibly happy. Or amused. Did she look funny? Was her hair all messed up? Was that why he tried to pet it earlier?

“I’m glad you are doing better and you were able to come back to school,” he continued, shuffling strangely from side-to-side. “Though, you are looking rather _hot_ today.”

Marinette touched her face, wondering if she had been sitting in the sun too long again and he thought she was feverish. Her mom had always told her to put on sunscreen but damn if she kept forgetting to. She tried to cover it up the best she could. “Um, it is a bit hot today, isn’t it?”

Adrien frowned but before he could reply, Alix started tugging his arm and insisting he come take picture with some of her friends from the other classes. He gave Marinette a small wave and disappeared into the crowd. Then Alya shouted,

“Girl what the hell was that!? WHAT the HELL was that?!”

“Stop screaming,” Marinette protested, covering her ear and trying to scoot away.

“Dude, that was so fucking smooth I almost didn’t catch it,” Nino murmured, staring off at the girls piling on Adrien in the distance. “What in the world happened...”

“Right?” Alya laughed, pleased as punch. “He totally was flirting with you.”

Marinette blinked, her heart thumping. “What? When?”

“He said you look hot, idiot. Learn to read between the lines.”

Marinette scoffed, “Alya, he was just asking if I was feeling better.”

“Did you hit your head?” Alya demanded, pushing her palm on Marinette’s head. “You’re starting to freak me out, girl. You sure you don’t need to go back to the hospital?”

“Alya, I’m fine,” Marinette dismissed, taking another bite of her poor crumpled sandwich. Nino and Alya shot each other one of those couple looks and she had a feeling the conversation was far from over. Fortunately, Ms. Mendeliev was struggling to get some boxes up the stairs and Marinette scurried away to help. As she hefted boxes one-by-one she tried to think of the best way to convince Alya that there was no way Adrien could possibly be flirting with her.

But first, she needed to convince herself.

 

\---

 

Adrien slunk into the locker room, letting out an exhausted breath as he started changing into his fencing gear. The whole day girls had been flocking to him and requesting his picture, turning every single break and transition into extra work. His face felt stiff from smiling so much and all he wanted to do was to crawl into bed and get a well-earned sleep. He actually found himself leaning on the locker and dozing off when his D’Argencourt clapped him on the back.

“Stay firm, Agreste,” he commanded, his pitch rolling with excitement. “You’re going to need to catch up on your forms. I’m pairing you with Tsurugi for the rest of the class.”

Adrien wearily smiled, thinking it far too long since he fenced with Kagami. Unfortunately, that meant he was probably going to get his ass handed to him today. Normally he welcomed the challenge, but he was still feeling a little bit off after the rough night he had. Plagg peeked at him through the locker.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go,” the kwami offered. “We could always go home early for cheese.”

“I’ll be fine,” Adrien dismissed, straightening his posture. Fencing was important. If not for impressing his father then keeping his reflexes sharp enough to function as Chat Noir.

“What? You haven’t found enough girls to pose with today?” Plagg teased, grinning widely. “I wonder what your girlfriend will have to say about it later.”

“She doesn’t know I’m me, remember?” Adrien sighed, putting his helmet back on. “And even if she did, I doubt she would care. She didn’t seem to particularly care this afternoon, did she?”

“Would you care if a guy who wasn’t your boyfriend but hung out with a lot of girls was suddenly hitting on you?” Plagg counterargued, actually sounding serious. “You could have said no to all those girls, you know. Just because people want you to do something doesn’t mean you are obligated to do it.”

Adrien had an inkling that Ladybug would tell him the same thing and that maybe the two of them were right but he shoved that down. “It’s fine. Everyone had a good time. Besides, I’ll be able—”

“Agreste, stop pep talking with your locker and come on,” his instructor called from the doorway. Plagg shot him one last look of worry before floating away from the grating. Adrien grabbed his sword and walked out to the courtyard. Kagami was talking to some club members and immediately brightened when she saw him.

“Adrien, it’s been ages,” she started, gripping his arm. Any other friend would swoop in for a hug but Kagami had always been like that. Subtle and strong. But even he could see the worry hidden between the creases of her brow. He patted her hand and smiled.

“Tell me about it. You ready to go a few rounds?”

 Though other classmates were drawing their foils, Kagami did not budge. “I can’t believe that Lila girl lied to everyone again! She’s nothing but trouble; I don’t know why you tolerate her.”

“Missed you too Kagami,” he quipped, not in the mood for censure. “Everything got sorted out in the end anyway. Just don’t feed into her energy. She’s not worth it.”

“You are right,” Kagami sighed, staring at the ground. “I was just worried.”

“Worried you’re going to lose?” He teased, stepping back into position. Kagami followed suit, a cheeky smirk forming on her expression. Her eyes were like steel and sunlight, magnetically drawn to the art of the fight. Their swords clanged as they viciously traded blows, their feet rapidly moving across stone. Kagami kept increasing the pace, her stamina almost demonic as she gained momentum and scored point after point against his wearied form. 

“Not bad,” she goaded, after grabbing a point on his arm. “But you’re out of practice. Try harder.”

Adrien grinned beneath his fencing mask, pushing his muscles that much more. His tendons cried in protest and his legs grew shaky, but he didn’t let up an inch, glad he could finally move his body again. It was like a runner’s high, if he pushed hard enough there would be nothing left in his head but intensity. If only he could just try harder...and harder...

It was Kagami who ended it first.

“You’re breathing isn’t paced,” she explained, shucking off her helmet. “It’s important for a warrior to know their limits. One would almost think you like the pain.”

Adrien was leaning on his sword, glad his mask hid the shock. _Am I really so obvious?_ Ladybug had figured out his interest fast enough, but that was to be expected, he was nothing if not himself around her. The fact that Kagami even began to understand that unnerved him. It made him feel exposed and vulnerable.

“J-just trying to improve,” he protested, and even he knew that sounded weak. Kagami’s glare grew tight as she stood over him, trying to read through all his defenses. It was the same look that made him wonder if she was Ladybug in the first place, the same thing that had him trailing on every quiet but intense sentence, that had his head turned in curiosity. Despite all their time as friends he still didn't quite understand the subtle nuances in the elegant way she composed herself and part of him wondered if he ever would. 

“The two aren’t quite as separate as you would think.”

Adrien swallowed, standing up straight. “What do you mean?”

“You get so used to the fight that you want to keep chasing that exhilaration,” Kagami continued lowly, a quiet intensity in each word. “You want to see just how far you can go.”

The words evoked memory. His lungs could feel breaths ravaging his chest, his arms the tight sting of yo-yo string, his muscles the griping bind of leather, and his heart remembered the pattering of adrenaline. He remembered looking up at Ladybug wondering just how far she would take it, how much of him she could bear to see or accept, thinking of the way her lips curled as he lowered his head. The way his own eyes pleaded for her to take more of him. 

“I’m just trying to fence,” Adrien breathed, knowing _exactly_ what she was talking about.

“Of course,” Kagami answered demurely. “I am nothing if not accommodating. Shall we continue?”

Normally, Adrien would say yes. He took every second of fencing as far as it would take him, let himself achingly wander home and fall into bed, secretly enjoying how quickly the exhaustion lulled him to sleep. Maybe that was why he’d found Kagami so fascinating in the first place; beyond Ladybug she was the only person who continuously pushed his limits. When he was Chat, he let himself become so beaten that he couldn’t think of anything else but the fight. When Kagami transferred, with her strict attitude and iron resolve, he’d almost found himself goading her to push harder. But the difference between Kagami and Ladybug was that, at the end of the day, Ladybug would gently touch his shoulder, convincing him that his own destruction needed to stop.

“No, I think I will call out early today,” he said quietly, ashamed that he couldn’t finish his lesson. But once he said it, his body almost seemed to sag with relief. He could almost hear Marinette on the receiver, her hushed voice telling him that everything was okay. “It's been a rough day. I should probably rest.”

“I understand,” Kagami nodded, taking the subtle rejection with grace. “But should you change your mind we can always try the next level.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be able to reach your level,” he answered modestly, rubbing his head. Kagami’s eyes glinted and she almost seemed to be rising to the challenge.

“Neither would your pastry girl.” It was so low he almost didn’t hear it.

His heart leaped. “Um, what?”

He’d done his best to keep his feeling towards Marinette to himself. Not just because of her own possibly rejection, but because of how his fans might retaliate toward her. It had been daunting rising up to her challenge, subtlety hoping she’d understand his secret messages, precariously balancing his façade and interactions with other people, desperately hoping that no one else would, wanting so, so badly to just let go of his own restraint and take her in his arms. Even as he knew that passionate confession would send every fragile connection they built crashing down. 

“You know exactly what I mean,” Kagami tsked, shaking her head. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

 _Oh, crap._ Kagami could be blunt sure, but she usually masked her bluntness with her wit and metaphors. He wasn't sure how to handle that level of directness. 

“Wh-why would you bring up my classmate?” Adrien floundered, his own awkwardness making him wince. “I didn’t realize you were close with her.”

“We are not close,” Kagami answered flatly, sheathing her sword on her hip."Though she is a wonderful and talented girl my view on her will not change. I consider her my rival."

Adrien was sure if he looked in the mirror his smile would be that of a cornered animal. “Really? I don’t think Marinette knows how to fence.”

Kagami’s eyes bored into his soul. “Even I can lose my patience.”

“Tsurugi, Agreste, why are you flapping your lips instead of sparring?” Their instructor asked, stomping towards them. Kagami tilted her head to look at him and then shot Adrien a smirk.

“Good luck, Adrien.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, Kagami finally made her appearance. I tried to keep her aloof and mysterious because she gives me that vibe. She strikes me as a very serious person with intense passion hidden underneath her cool exterior. Though she and Marinette are very different people Adrien definitely has a type ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°). Let me know what you guys think ehehe~
> 
> As foretold, awkward Adrien flirting ensued. Poor boy spent the night in figurative hell, dodged his father, took down Lila, befriended the school, and still tried to follow his lady's request. Will he ever catch a break?
> 
> I hope everyone is enjoying all the tiny classmate interactions. I actually really enjoy navigating all their social dynamics.


	35. Hot Chocolate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: A jumble of emotions, deep introspection, and a tantalizing turn of events

Marinette didn’t know what to think.

She’d spent the whole day waiting with baited breath, eyes chasing shadows, her heart flickering at the slightest sound, only have school end as usual. So, maybe asking Chat to flirt with her had been a huge request but she hadn’t thought he wouldn’t. _He_ was the one who was so excited about exposing himself. Alya gave her a weird look as she shoved all her books in her bag and sighed.

“Something wrong?” Alya asked, brushing her fingertips on her forehead.

“Just tired,” Marinette answered. “I’m gonna go home and probably sleep early.”

Alya hummed. “You aren’t upset are you?”

“Why would I be?” Marinette asked, as they walked out of the classroom. Alya was unusually pensive, staring down at the ground as she collected her thoughts and her steps slowed.

“I know everything with Lila was hard for you but even before that you’ve been…” Alya hesitated, her hand grabbing at air as if she could catch her wayward thoughts. “Just off, I guess.”

Marinette felt anxious. “What do you mean?”

“That right there. You seem so tired.”

“Alya, I am tired,” Marinette laughed, shaking her head.

“Okay, _quieter_ than usual,” Alya amended. “And distant. Usually, I know everything that’s going on with you and lately it’s like a big mystery. I know I’ve been spending a lot of time with Nino and you’ve been extra busy but you know I always have time for you, right?”

Marinette felt tears gather in her eyes. “Alya…”

Alya pulled her into a hug, squeezing tightly. “I’m here for you, boo.”

Marinette wished she could tell her everything. She hated lying and lately it felt like her life had become nothing but lies and secrets. Sometimes, she wished that she wasn’t a superhero. Or that she wasn’t a freak. She had been simpler before meeting Tikki, sticking her head to her own business, hiding in her own cocoon. Scared yet safe. Detached from all the wrongs in the world she convinced herself there was nothing she could do for anyway. It was like there were multiple pieces to her—Marinette, Ladybug— each vying for control of every action and thought and sometimes she wasn’t sure which was authentic. Part of her thought Alya might understand. But Marinette didn’t even understand herself and she was too afraid that Alya would see the same faults and turn away.

“I’m here for you too,” Marinette answered, patting her shoulder. “Trust me. I’ll get some sleep and come back tomorrow a wreck as usual. I’ll even squawk about showing up late and forgetting my homework, okay?”

Alya snorted, good cheer returning. “Forgot or purposefully neglected? I’m not letting you copy mine again. You get better math grades anyway; it’s only going to be way too obvious.”

“Not even if I make you that cute boho dress?”

Alya whined, biting her lip to block the sound. “No bribes! Be responsible!”

“Yes, mom,” Marinette deadpanned. Alya’s eyes lit up as she looked past her and saw her boyfriend. Marinette waved and Nino slapped her on the back, grinning down at her as he said,

“That’s right, you listen to your mom young lady.” It might have been convincing if he didn’t sound like a California surfer dude. Or look the same way he did when he was eight.

“Please tell me that’s not your dad voice,” Alya demanded, rolling her eyes. “Why don’t you sound angry? I gotta be the nice one, I’m too soft; you’re the bad cop.”

Marinette could barely hold back her laughter at the image of Nino putting on a stern father act and neither could Nino. Alya put her hands on her hips, ready to fight both of them. “What’s so funny? Are you saying I’m NOT the nice one?”

“I just, it’s that,” Marinette tried, wiping back tears. “Who good-cop-bad-cops their kids?”

Nino leaned close to Alya, his eyes almost smoldering as he said, “Babe, you can fight it all you want, but I’m gonna be the cool dad. It’s destiny.”

“Pfft, why am I dating you again? Don’t tell me you’re going to do dad jokes.”

“Obviously, you love me for my sense of humor,” Nino brushed aside, making Marinette wish she had his level of confidence. “Besides, I can do better than dad jokes. Leave that crap to Adrien.”

“Adrien _does_ seem like he might make dad jokes,” Alya considered, stroking her own chin. “Like he’s so serious that he would say something like “hi hungry” in that soft voice and be surprised when his kids get annoyed with him. It’s actually really hard to imagine him being silly.”

Marinette tried to imagine Adrien cracking a joke like that. It seemed really unlike him to say something lame and she doubted he’d be goofy enough to make something that simple work. He seemed really good with words so he might be good at saying something witty, but certainly not something entertaining for five-year olds.

“Babe, are you kidding, have you not heard Adrien’s lame ass puns?” Nino asked in disbelief. “He’s already making dad jokes and he can’t even figure out how to talk to girls yet. The other day in anatomy he pointed to the skeleton pictures and told me one was humerus and the other was sternum.”

Marinette thought of Chat leading Monstra around, throwing out skeleton puns with that look of childlike glee, the vivacity he had with each delivery. She wondered how Adrien would say it.

Alya laughed and pushed him away. “No way, stop yanking my chain. Adrien would never say something that lame and he talks to girls all the time. Or did you not see your bro today swimming in the ladies?”

Nino shook his head and sighed. “Babe…you just don’t understand men.”

The two of them started snapping at each other, which turned into chasing and poking, and Marinette watched their antics with amusement and stifled a yawn. Then she saw Adrien walking to his car, nodding at the Gorilla as the stern bodyguard took his bag. He turned to look at them and, for the briefest moment, he looked like he would come over and talk to them.

“Is he okay?” She asked softly, noticing the way he seemed to lean into the car door. Nino looked over her, holding Alya back by grabbing her wrists and frowned.

“Dude, you’re right. He looks tired.”

“Isn’t he supposed to be in fencing today?” Marinette asked, already knowing the answer.

“It’s not like him to ditch,” Alya mused, lowering her arms. “Maybe something came up with his dad.”

Nino waved at him and Adrien startled to attention, waving back with that bright smile of his. Then he turned his head as the Gorilla gestured for him to get in the car. Marinette tilted her head as they drove off, trying to make sense of all the weird things he’d been doing lately.

“He did tell me they had some sort of argument,” Nino informed them, brow tightening. “I’ll ask him about it tomorrow. He’s been saying it’s not good to text him ‘cuz—”

Then he cut himself off, flushing guiltily as he messed around with his hat.

“Woah, you can’t just stop there,” Alya pressed.

“Look, my bro isn’t what you’d call a sharer and I don’t think he wants me talking about stuff with you guys. No offense, but you girls get crazy enough with all your social media posts that—”

Alya’s cheeks puffed in anger: gendered generalizations were always a surefire way to piss her off. “I don’t make posts about Adrien! My blog is exclusively Ladybug, thank you very much! And Marinette can’t even figure out how to turn her computer on!”

“Hey! I know how to use photoshop!” Marinette snapped defensively. “And I would never do that to a friend!”

Nino stepped back, raising his hands defensively as their voices rose in disbelief. “Dudes, I know, but the other girls all talk and you talk to them and—”

“Hey, you were the one who got all loose lipped about Marinette’s stuff to him!”

Marinette gasped, fearing the worst. Had they told Adrien about her crush? Was that why he was so weird lately? Why would Nino do that to her? Nino stared at Marinette then back at Alya, swallowing sharply as he grew more uneasy. “Can we talk about this later?” He asked his girlfriend, voice reaching a high pitch.

“Really? You want to talk about me behind my back that badly?” Marinette demanded, hurt stabbing her heart as her veins pulsed with anger. Alya tried to catcher her in a half hug. Marinette moved out of her grasp. “How could you? I TOLD you I didn’t want anyone telling him how I felt!”

“Marinette, boo, it’s not like that. Nino just mentioned you had panic a—”

Betrayal rose up in her. “WHAT?! WHY?! THAT’S WORSE!”

No wonder Adrien had been so weird. He was probably trying to be extra nice to her out of some twisted sense of pity. How dare Nino tell him she had anxiety! She hadn’t talked to anyone except Alya about them; what the hell did Nino know? Her parents didn’t even know! Was that what everyone in the class did? Wait for her to be out and talk behind her back?

“Look, I’m sorry,” Nino said quietly. “We just … we just wanted to help.”

“And telling the guy I like that I’m crazy is helpful?” Help, really? Was she really just some incompetent child in their eyes? Marinette blinked back her tears, wishing she could just be angry without showing weakness, barely able to process what they were even saying. She wanted to run away, transform into Ladybug, trek over rooftops and miles until her heartbeat could tick past its own anxiety.

“I asked him because he knows what it’s like, okay?” Nino confessed, letting out a deep sigh. “I thought if anyone could think of something he would.”

“And Adrien was really cool about it,” Alya added. “All that stuff we talked about with giving you space and not babying you? Adrien was the one who suggested it. He didn’t think badly of you, I swear.”

_Adrien knows what it’s like?_ She thought to herself, caught up in a whirlwind of emotion as her thoughts crashed around her head. What exactly? Was he anxious, had he been bullied, did he ever look in the mirror and wish he was as talented as people seemed to think, did he ever carry the weight of a city on his shoulders, the weight of a human life? Adrien was always so perfect and poised and happy. Could someone like that _really_ understand someone like her?

“I’m sorry,” Nino said softly. “I know things between you two are … weird. But he’s a good person and a great friend and I think you should try getting to know him more. He’s been trying really hard to be your friend and, yeah, he’s a dork, but he is trying. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have,” Marinette huffed, blinking back her treacherous tears. All she could think about was how much she needed to leave, to cry, to grieve the idea that she could be like everyone else. “Look, I’m just gonna go home, okay? I need some space.”

“Marinette,” Alya started, trying to follow her.

“I’ll be fine Alya,” she uttered, walking away, stifling all the hurtful barbs threatening to rise. Her steps grew faster and then she was running, breaths beating out of her chest as the sun burned down harder than her humiliation. She only wished she could outrun her shame.

 

\---

 

Adrien stared out the window, surprised to find it was already night. He’d come home and promptly passed out, missing both his dinner and his studies. The moon was bright and full as it illuminated his room and he found Plagg rolling around his cheese.

“Hello, sleeping beauty,” Plagg snarked, taking a huge bite. “Food’s outside. I told them to leave it out there and that you were busy. Guess my Adrien impression is just that good.”

“Thanks, Plagg,” Adrien laughed, reaching forward to scruff his head. The little cat scowled but Adrien thought he enjoyed the praise anyway. He padded over to the door, surprised at the little silver tray and note atop it. It wasn’t like his dad to leave him sleeping; normally Nathalie would barge in and force him back on schedule. The text on the note read, _stay home tomorrow if you aren’t feeling well._

Adrien flipped over the empty card, wondering if Nathalie’s scrawl was conveying her own sentiments or his father’s. With a shrug, he picked up the tray and brought it into his room. Plagg flicked on the shounen anime they started watching recently and they both ate in silence, occasionally laughing at the protagonist’s wacky reactions.

Then his phone buzzed. Except not the one on his nightstand, but the one hidden beneath his mattress. He bit his lip as he tried to hold back his smile, not at all surprised when Plagg started teasing him anyway. Adrien opened the app and stared at the text thoughtfully,

**Buginette: Do you think I’m childish?**

No hello, how are you. Not that he minded with how close they were, but Marinette was always really particular about hellos and goodbyes, always spending the beginning of conversations milling around before she actually figured out how to say what she really wanted.

**Buginette: It’s a stupid question. Sorry.**

Adrien furrowed his brow knowing that if she said that it was anything but.

**No. When I think of you the first word that comes to mind is passionate. Then driven. Not really attributes I would give a child. Why?**

**Buginette: My friends treat me like a child.**

Adrien recalled seeing them chatting the courtyard, the way Alya and Nino seemed to tower over Marinette’s admittedly short stature, their casual hair ruffles and shoulder leans. She’d looked withdrawn, like her thoughts were somewhere far away, so different from her normal teasing and snapping, the strange blustering and tripping into nothing.

**What makes you say that?**

**Buginette: It’s embarrassing. I don’t want to talk about it.**

Adrien huffed a soft laugh.

**I think you actually do, bugaboo.** **Weren’t you the one who said that I can talk to you about anything? It’s a two-way street, you know. I want to be there for you too.**

Her reply was slow.

**Buginette: That’s part of it. I feel like everyone is walking on eggshells around me, like I’m some sort of problem that constantly needs to be solved. Even my classmates sometimes.**

Adrien didn’t know what to think about that. If anything, it constantly seemed like the opposite to him. Marinette could barely go one class period without getting dragged into some event or problem that she was solving for someone. Everyone constantly surrounded her, super enthusiastic to hear about whatever cool thing she was working on, waiting to hear whatever advice she had. He found the idea of that stressful—sometimes people were just draining and he couldn’t come up with solutions on the fly the way she did, he needed time to think and process. But Marinette almost seemed to thrive in high-stakes situations; he thought that maybe she liked being able to fix things.

**You aren’t a problem that needs to be solved. I think your classmates are all just trying to support you the way you support them. I’m actually jealous how well all of you get along.**

Though he thought that maybe today had been better. He was still a little drained and tired of people, but it was nice to actually _talk_ to others. The girls were cracking and throwing hilarious jokes and flirtations that would have made Chat Noir proud and he only wished he hadn’t felt so nervous that he couldn’t return them back. He had been afraid that the boys would be upset with him, or accuse him of being too effeminate, but they had been weirdly supportive instead. He’d given Kim some advice on being more romantic and Max some encouragement that there was definitely someone out there as interested in computers as he was. Even Nathaniel, who he had never shared a conversation with, had taken him aside and asked him for some fashion advice for a date he had coming up.

For a moment, he’d felt like he’d actually belonged.

**Buginette: I feel like people only tolerate me because they like Alya. She’s always trying to include me in everything and they have no choice but to accept me.**

Adrien considered this. Alya had been just as new as he was and yet she had seamlessly merged with the rest of the class in no time at all. But if Alya was by herself, she was typically pressed up against her phone, typing wild superhero theories and following comic book blogs. Even with her extroversion, she was just as nerdy and awkward as the rest of them, that was why she and Nino worked so well. If anything, people approached her first because they knew she was Marinette’s friend. Not vice versa.

**Bugaboo, I don’t know how to tell you this but you’re actually kind of popular. The class did vote for you to be class president. Plus, Alya’s not the one that threw that birthday party for Juleka or stayed behind to help Rose with her math or rallied the class for Kim’s swimming competition. The reason everyone is always around you is because they like YOU.**

**Buginette: Really? You think so?** Adrien could imagine her sweet blush.

**I KNOW so. You’re amazing.**

**Buginette: I’m sorry for bothering you. You must think I’m silly.**

**I think you’re adorable. (=** **ච ω** **ච=)**

**Buginette: I want to see you.**

Surprise and excitement caught him. Maybe he was getting over confident but it seemed like, lately, Marinette was the one reaching out. It was so different from their normal dynamic where he chased her and she ignored him that he wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Feeling overly bold, he texted back,

**Is that offer to come over still standing?**

Time seemed to slow as he waited with baited breath for her reply.

**Buginette: You have been a good cat lately.**

**(** **ⓛ ω** **ⓛ *) Does that mean I get a reward?**

He remembered his last “reward” atop the Eiffel tower, the way their bodies seemed to sing as they melded their desires. The way Ladybug had looked when she let herself go. It felt like ages since she’d last touched him and there had been so many things he wanted to try. Was she waiting with just as much anticipation?

**Buginette: That’s the rules, Chaton.**

**Buginette: Are you coming?**

It struck him that maybe she needed him the same way he needed her.

**Yes, hell yes. Give me ten minutes.**

**Buginette: Ten minutes.**

 

\---

 

Marinette nervously set the cups of hot chocolate on her balcony, looking out at the skyline with a rising mixture of anxiety and excitement. For once, she wasn’t entirely sure what she wanted to do to him, only that she wanted to look at him, be with him, hold him close to her. Realistically, they couldn’t do much with her parents sleeping below and she wasn’t even sure it was safe to invite him inside. Unless she put on loud music, they might hear him talking and it was too late at night for that. The balcony was the most private part of her home that she had and yet the exposed air and Parisian twilight told another story.

In the distance, she saw a shadow jumping from rooftop to rooftop. Her heart sped.

“See, I told you he’d be excited,” Tikki teased, dropping marshmallows in their mugs. Marinette had talked to her most of the afternoon, unveiling her angst about moving past Adrien, the strange dichotomy with her friends, the disappointment when Chat didn’t approach her. The kwami took all of it in and gave her similar advice to Chat, expressing that Marinette put too much pressure on herself and that most of her classmates had good opinions of her.

Chat landed on her balcony, catching a breath as he stood up.

“Take a chance to breathe,” Marinette teased, leaning on the railing. He turned to look at her, a smile growing as he took in her pajamas. She wore a threadbare shirt with an old cat cartoon on it and some gym shorts. Part of her had wanted to change into something seductive but when she thought about the possibility of her parents finding her, she’d decided to stick to normal. Part of her felt he might like it anyway. Sure enough, his eyes perused the flickers of light her small lamp exposed of her, slowly tracing her exposed legs and smiling at her faded shirt, and finally contemplating the mugs on the table.

“Is that for me?” he asked, pointing a clawed finger at the hot chocolate.

“I happened to be making some for myself,” she answered, turning away with a blush. Chat sat in the opposite chair, bringing the mug up to his face with a happy breath.

“It’s still warm.”

“You said ten minutes,” she answered, taking her own sip. Chat seemed hyper-alert, his eyes tracing every single move, stopping and lingering on her face. It was one thing imagining him close but now that he was here, she wasn’t even sure what to do with him. He had such a large presence, intensity and attractiveness, the intellect in his keen eyes, and it was hard not to feel intimidated.

“Wow, it’s so good,” he complimented, taking another sip. “A total sugar coma.”

“I like sweet things,” she shrugged, setting down her cup.

“I like sweet things too,” he murmured, reaching over to place his hand over hers. Marinette’s heart skipped a beat and she found herself lost for what to say.

“So, a warm drink, a lovely companion, and the Paris skyline,” Chat spoke up, looking over her balcony. “This is quite the reward Bugaboo. To think you get this view every day.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have some place better,” she uttered, letting out a sigh. At his incredulous look, she continued, “I want to invite you in but I’m worried I might wake up my parents.”

His thumb stroked the top of her hand. “This is perfect. You have no idea how happy I am right now.”

_Woah,_ she found herself transfixed. The sincerity on his face was heart rending and she couldn’t help but remember his breathy voice on the phone, that sad confession of how difficult it was for him to return home. She wondered what he had come here from, whether his father had been kinder today, how many hours he had to put in at work. All these questions piled up into a giant mystery that she wasn’t sure he would be able to answer.

“So, uh, you’re feeling better?” she managed, flummoxing the words.

“Better now that you’re here,” he teased, his fingers rotating her wrist so they could lace with hers. She scowled at his shameless flirtations, even as the light touches electrified her. In a more serious tone, he added, “It’s been fine. A bit exhausting today but nothing bad happened. Got a cat nap in, at least.”

That explained why he hadn’t been able to approach her. Of course, he was swamped with work. It made her feel a little selfish. “I’m glad today was better.”

“All the Lila stuff got straightened out,” Chat grinned proudly. “So that’s one less thing to worry about.”

“Oh yeah, you didn’t say something to her, did you? She totally 180’d and confessed to the class that she was lying. It was super weird. She even made this social media post about it. I stopped reading the bullshit about halfway through, she basically wrote a novel.”

Chat’s eyes widened. “Really? I didn’t even check. I guess she took her experience to heart.”

There was something mischievous in the way he said that, but considering how blatantly he dodged the question, she let it go. She was surprised when he casually followed up with, “So, there were a lot of girls trying to get #adriensrealgirlfriend photos.”

Marinette laughed dryly, growing nervous, hoping he couldn’t feel her sweat hand beneath his glove. He held her hand like it was the most natural thing in the world, his grip steady and reassuring. “Yeah, I guess a lot of girls wanted to get in on the meme.”

“Why didn’t you?” he asked innocently, as if he couldn’t figure out that answer himself.

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Chat hummed, looking rather coy. “Hm, to you, _purrhaps_. I _cat-not_ read minds.”

Marinette raised a brow as his grip tightened and he studiously looked at the hatch to her room. It struck her that he was nervous, that it probably took him a lot of courage to ask that question, that the puns were a sad attempt at feigning neutrality.

“I thought you wouldn’t like it,” she answered, gripping tightly back. Chat whipped back to look at her, surprise evident on his face.

“I’m not a jealous cat, my lady. You can take pictures with boys if you want.” He was wearing that blank smile again, faking a sense of ease while something stirred within that she couldn’t see.

Marinette felt her jaw tick. “Aren’t jealous, huh? Then explain Copycat.”

“I have obviously grown and matured since then,” he answered quickly, pulling his hand back. He took a large gulp of the cooling hot chocolate and she almost wanted to laugh at his sudden withdrawal, finding it almost endearing how supportive he was trying to be. It made her want to see what happened when he finally let that selfless façade crumble.

“Being such a mature and grown cat, I suppose you deserve a real reward then,” Marinette trailed off, shooting him a mischievous grin. “I thought of a rather exciting order for you.”

“O-oh?” he answered, looking like someone on one of those pranked shows, who already knew they were walking into a disaster but couldn’t stop their own curiosity. Marinette leaned over the wrought iron table, coyly tracing her fingers down his torso, reaching for the baton on his belt. His eyes widened as she opened the communicator and tapped a timer.

“Ten more minutes,” she informed, showing him the numbers on the screen.

Chat's eyes stared at the screen and then her face as he swallowed. "Ten minutes for what, my lady?"

“You’ve been so good that I’m giving you ten minutes to do _anything_ you want to me," she purred with false bravado, tapping again to start the time. "Tick, tock, Chaton."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know. After tons of character development and side tangents I've finally brought back the real plot of the story, AWKWARD BDSM haha. All joking aside, the slow burn and emotional journeys are all delicious ingredients to the sizzling intimacy sure to follow. 
> 
> Hopefully, the friendship dynamic between Marinette and Alya is interesting. I don't get to spend as much time on it as I would like due to the limited PoV of the fic, but I think having Adrien's perspective on it gives more of the depth it needs. Marinette's much too hard on herself and because of this her PoV ironically pushes the false narratives that she believes. 
> 
> Also, Nino is slowly creeping in with more screen time. Did anyone suspect that text conversation he had with Adrien would come back? He really cares about his friends, even if he isn't as direct as Alya, and I'm sure it's challenging juggling Adrien's secrets, Marinette's crush, Alya weird confession plans, his own frustration that the two just talk to each other, and his inability to do more. Dude just wants to step back and write music, y'all gotta stop being so dramatic.


	36. Slow Motion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: The pot has simmered into a boil

Chat blinked, staring at the girl in front of him and then back at the number glowing on his baton. Part of him thought he had heard her wrong, that his fantasies were starting to get to his head, that maybe he hadn’t even woken up from his nap at all, that he was _a lot_ more stressed than he thought he was. But then her thumb tapped the screen and the numbers started decreasing.

“You want me to … “ his voice barely formed. “What?”

Marinette sat back in her chair crossing her legs—those beautiful shapely bared legs—over each other as her hand supported her elbow. The position accentuated the curve of her shin that disappeared into the shadows, the small lilt of her chest, her dainty wrists.

“Tick, tock, Chaton.”

_This is real,_ he swallowed. “I don’t know, LB…”

Marinette frowned, her skin almost glowing the lamplight. “Is something wrong?”

“Anything … that’s kind of vague isn’t it?”

Anything was daunting. Where would he even begin? There was so much of her that drew him in. Even the light playing on her collarbone felt erotic; he had never seen that shadow without latex before and he found himself wanting to chase it with his mouth. The longer he looked, the more _ideas_ seized him until he thought he might be consumed. What if he couldn’t stop? What if … she didn’t like it?

“I mean if I tell you what to do, doesn’t that defeat the purpose?”

“I thought that was the whole point of the sessions,” he murmured, noticing the way her shirt moved with her breaths. She was the dom. Hadn’t she said as much before? Of course, he’d been curious … about what things would be like the other way but … could he really?

“Right, I forgot you like being told what to do,” she teased, smile almost flirtatious. “Alright, I’m going to start the timer again and _you’re_ going to make me do something. That’s an order.”

“But what if I do something you don’t like,” he blurted, unsure. “Or hurt you?”

“Do you want to hurt me?” Marinette asked, tilting her head curiously, her hair wafting with the movement, making him want to tug the tendrils close as he tilted up her chin. He wanted her to look up at him in surprise, her eyes almost melting with desire as she begged for more.

“No,” he breathed, voice like air.

She regarded him curiously. “What are you afraid of?”

_Me. You. Where this going, what you’ll do when you learn the truth, if continuing this is only making the pain that much worse, if playing these games took you away from a man who actually deserves you, if I touch you and break you._ But he couldn’t voice any of it, just desperately wished that he was strong enough to let go. Strong enough to hold on. Anything to get out of the strange purgatory they dwelt within. Marinette stood up, crossing the few feet between them, standing at his side as the shadows of night fell on her and hid her expression.

“I don’t think you’ll do anything I won’t like,” she said quietly, even as her fists clenched at her side. “But isn’t that what the safety words are for?”

That caused his ears to perk up.  Her hand indecisively wavered over his shoulder, like she was nervous too, but her expression was soft and open. He thought maybe she understood that hesitation, maybe she had felt some of it herself the first time she’d given him orders and some his tension alleviated.

 “Yes.”

“So, if I say them, you’ll stop, right?” she pressed.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, remembering how much she emphasized her boundaries. How unpredictably those hard rules seemed to shift. “I thought we were…”

“Partners,” Ladybug finished firmly.

Chat took the baton she offered, rolling the warm metal around his palm as he reset the timer. He looked at her again, thinking it amazing that she still continued to surprise and impress him.

He started the timer.

“Partners.”

 

\---

 

Marinette tried to hide her trembling, knowing it wasn’t just the cool air that had her shaking. Chat had attached his baton back to his belt, slowly standing up as the moonlight danced on the golden strands of his hair. She realized they spent a lot of these moments with him sitting or somehow beneath her, that his submission making him into a creature she could seize in even the slightest word. The control might have been the only thing giving her courage to start this madness in the first place. There was a safety in power. When she allowed it, her feelings blossomed into gentle appreciation.

But when he stood like that, towering over her as the shadows fell on his face, the closeness of his body reminding her just how _tiny_ she was, the feeling became something less fluffy and warm.

The feeling started to burn.

“I like your hair down,” he said softly, fingers tentatively reaching for strands. The touch was as absent as the wind like being caressed by a phantom. “It’s really pretty.”

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. “It’s kind of thick and gets messy easy.”

“I didn’t know it was wavy,” he observed, tugging his fingers through. She shuddered, feeling the tips of his claw unravel tangles. “Or so fluffy, heh.”

Marinette huffed out a smile, surprised that out of anything he could possibly do to her, the damn cat wanted to pet her hair. The smallest touches made his eyes glow with satisfaction; the smallest touches that he had probably thought she would deny had he asked. How very like him.

“You gonna spend ten minutes petting me?” Marinette teased, eyes flickering to the flashing green nine on his baton.

“Maybe,” he answered softly, the pads of his fingers sliding against her jaw. “Were you expecting something more, my lady?”

“I wasn’t expecting anything,” she answered, hands on her waist. “It’s whatever you want.”

His finger curled around her chin, forcing her to look at him. “I think _you_ wanted something.”

“What do _you_ want, Chaton?” She asked, her voice blending with her breaths.

He leaned forward, face brushing against her hair, close enough that it felt like he could encase her. She stared at the slope of his shoulder, wondering how it would feel to clasp it closer, if the muscles would resist her fingers sliding down his back.

“Everything,” he whispered, standing back. He walked beyond her, toward the hatch to her bedroom, leaving her dazed as she tried to piece together what was going on in his complex mind.

“Will you lay down?” he asked, gesturing the lounge chair. Marinette followed the sweep of his hand, not sure what to make of the request. Surprised that it was a request. Then she stepped forward, focusing on him as she lowered herself down, feeling self-conscious about where to position her arms and legs. She ended up stiffly crossing her ankles, her fingers meeting around her stomach.

“Really pretty,” he murmured, standing over her. She watched his fingers dance towards her knees, sliding down her calf. She shivered and his caress became something firmer, his hand wrapping around the top of her foot in an almost proprietary way.

It reminded her of the way Adrien had playfully touched her foot in the hospital.

She drew in a swift breath. “Chat,” she whispered, as if his name would make him real.

He lifted her foot and uncrossed her ankles. “You seem tense.”

The baton flashed with seven minutes left. It seemed like everything would be over before it began.

“I wouldn’t mind giving you a massage,” he said quietly, offhandedly, the way someone mentioned the weather. Even as his palm slid up the bare skin of her leg. “I would treat you like the princess you are if you ordered me to. Unfurling every knot and pain inside you, touching you for hours…”

That large hand slid up her thigh as he sat beside her, hesitating as his claws touched the edge of her shorts. “Until I know you better than you know yourself.”

Marinette bit her lip, feeling a strange coiling between her legs, a desperation to keep herself from fidgeting under his grasp. She wondered if his touch would wander further up, beneath her clothes, how different it might feel from her own. Did he notice the way she quivered?

“Will you tell me…” he hesitated, removing his hand. “How you like being touched?”

Marinette felt her face burn. “This is fine.”

His fingers skipped beside her abs. “Is it?”

She nodded, letting out a small squeak as his fingers pried hers open, as their palms embraced. His hands dwarfed hers and her fingers disappeared into darkness. The heat of their palms was far more intense then it ought to be and she found her heart racing as he smiled.

“I’ve always wanted to hold hands with you,” he murmured, squeezing lightly. “We fit.”

“Your hands are like a piano player’s,” she confessed, shivering when his thumb stroked the back of her hand, amazed by the strength in that. “Mine look like a child’s.”

He tugged her forward, sliding back his wrist as his lips whispered against the top of her hands. “No child could hold the safety of Paris in their hands as bravely as you do.”

This was torture. It took everything in her to stay still, to let him peruse, to keep herself from flipping him over with her leg and taking what she wanted. She was going to pass out from fucking hand holding. The baton lay absently beside his hip, barely ticking to five minutes. Only halfway and she was losing her mind. She’d thought he’d latch on in a rush of heated passion, wild with abandon. Instead, he savored.

Her breath released as he maneuvered her hands beside her head, held rapt the way his eyes refused to let go of hers. Balancing on both knees he’d boxed her in and yet he felt further away than ever.

“Beautiful,” he said, as if he couldn’t help himself, his fingers sliding down her wrists and arms. Even though he made no order, she kept the position, imagining his fading touch like invisible binding, her chest subtly arching for him.

“Are you cold?” he asked, twining the strap of her tank top between two fingers. The question was innocent enough, but she knew he saw the way her nipples strained against the thin material.

“Just do something already,” she muttered, not sure why she felt like crying.

“Like what?” he teased, two fingers running down her chest. They stopped, hovering away.

“Chat!” She protested, frustration mounting.

“Would you like me to touch you here?” he asked carefully. A single tear slipped out and she nodded, humiliated as the heat between her legs coiled. Chat huffed out a sigh, tentatively sliding his thumb against the throbbing peak. Her breath hitched. A slight rotation, a bit of pressure, and his touch receded once again.

“Chat,” she pleaded, turning her face away. Seconds flowed slowly as his hand brushed up the side of her neck, his palm cupping her cheek as he turned her back to him.

“Marinette,” he whispered back, his face alarmingly close. His eyes reflected starlight and she gasped as his thumb slid across the bottom pout of her lip. The movement entranced him and he did it again, causing her to release a tiny moan.

“So god damn cute,” he murmured, touching her chin, angling it up. “I could look at you for hours.”

“That’s all you want?” she whispered, shaking. It was impossible to see the baton but she couldn’t imagine that much time was left between them.

“All?” his laugh puffed against her lips. “I never thought we would be like this.”

His tone was filled with wonder and guilt scalded her. “But you wanted us to be.”

“Mm.” He brushed the hair away from her forehead.  She could already feel him leaving, imagine the sad turn of his smile as he walked away into his own life, forever treating her like something from a dream. Marinette realized, with sudden clarity, that he would never force anything on her. No matter how badly he wanted to. Or how much he needed to.

“You, um, said you don’t want me to feel like I doing something that I don’t want to do,” she fumbled in a whisper, feeling almost desperate. “And, I want to. I’m here. Tell me what you need.”

“I need to kiss you,” he whispered, those words drowning in longing. “From the very first moment we met, I’ve wanted to kiss you Marinette Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette’s heart felt so full she might cry. What had their first meeting been like? She imagined passing by him in the hall, unaware of the way the world slowed for him, terrified that she would never know the exact moment she’d stolen him. For years, maybe longer, this boy had been waiting for her, holding this quiet, intense passion within himself, suffering from the same longing she’d felt for Adrien. She wanted to burn that suffering away, until he finally allowed himself feel blanketed with love.

“Kiss me,” she begged, light as the midnight air. “Please.”

 

\---

 

Like something straight out of a dream, Adrien lowered his lips against hers. The first thing he felt was her breath, startled against his, then the soft give of lips. His heart wanted to leap out of his chest, silently beating out _finally, finally, finally._ He pulled back, embarrassed by how aroused he was, how much further he wanted to go with her.

“Again,” she whispered and he knew he couldn’t refuse.

This time she was ready, lips firm as they met. He gasped, “Is this okay?”

“More,” touched his lips. Their mouths moved in tandem, slight, shy touches, each one more real than the last. He adjusted his elbows, balancing on both sides of her, so he could bring their faces closer. Marinette let out another moan, the sound vibrating on his lips.

“Better than Dark Cupid?” he asked, hoping she didn’t feel forced, ashamed their first kiss had been a product of obligation and circumstance. A first kiss he couldn’t even remember.

“Better,” she breathed between kisses. “So much better.”

Chat asked her about it before, months after it happened, scared she had been forever scarred by the event. Ladybug had stiffened, turning away from him as she brushed off all his attempts to joke about it, her voice sad as she firmly told him,

_It wasn’t funny. Don’t make me remember it._

Chat swallowed, unsure and nervous, just as Marinette murmured,

“But it wasn’t bad.”

Something like hope stirred in him. “It wasn’t?”

“I was scared,” she answered, quietly. “I don’t like fighting you.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, punctuating the apology with a kiss, petting her hair.

“But the scarier thing,” she sighed, when he came up for air. “Was realizing I liked kissing you.”

Chat froze, stunned by her confession. “You did?”

“We just,” she stuttered out a breath, staring at her hand. He’d noticed she’d kept her elbows bent, hands flat against the lounger, as if waiting for him to shackle her. “We fit.”

Chat stroked her lips with his, tugging on her bottom lip as he pulled away. Surely, their time was almost gone and yet he wanted to know. “Like this?”

“You kissed me back,” she explained, breathless. “Hard. Like you … “

She trailed off and Chat pressed his lips tightly to hers, lingering this time, tilting his head to get millimeters closer, savoring the little moan his building pressure brought.

“Then I kissed you back. I didn’t know how to stop myself.”

“Did we use tongues?” he dared, heart racing. Plagg had excitedly shown him the Ladyblog video and he’d desperately taken in every detail, noticing the way she pressed against him, eyes screwed shut, the way their mouths seemed sealed. The sigh as all her tension released and he desperately kissed her back. Just as he’d noticed the panic in her eyes, the way she shoved him back, how she’d refused to look at him. Even with his memory gone, when she quickly darted away, he’d known something had damaged them. She’d refused to look at his face for days.

“For a moment,” she confessed, teeth nervously tugging her lip. “Then I panicked.”

“Sorry, mon cheri.”

Chat kissed her cheek, imagining what sort of torment she went through. In a way, he was lucky. The love of his life was the same girl. The regret of his choice had disappeared, and though he’d been scared of her rejection, his heart was still free to give. He couldn’t imagine the confusion and pain she went through to be here with him.

Marinette turned to catch his lips, open mouthed and slow, and this time he moaned, eyes screwing shut as she traced her tongue with his. He hesitated, and she sensed it, hands coming up to tug his hair and pull him closer. Her tongue was insistent, passionate, staking claim of every corner of his mouth and he almost mewled with pleasure.

“Closer,” she ordered the sound obscene. She reached to wrap her arms around him, tugging down his shoulder, fingers splayed as she gripped him close. He obeyed, racing breaths falling into the soft pillow of her chest as he surrendered. Their kisses became wetter, their breaths haggard, tongues clumsily claiming each other.

The timer started beeping and came up for air. “Mari—”

The sound was silenced by the hand on his waist. Then she tugged his belt, forcing him to lay completely on top of her.

“Forget the timer, Chaton." 

And he did. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry about the delay on this chapter! Real life came at me with a sledgehammer :<. 
> 
> That being said, I hope it was worth the wait. It took Thirty-six chapters for them to kiss. Thirty. Six. Chapters. Capturing all that intense and built-up passion was tough but damn this chapter made my heart throb haha. I'll try not to get a heart attack before I finish the next one. 
> 
> As always, let me know your thoughts! :D


	37. Sweet Demands

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: The smut you were expecting.

Marinette moaned into his mouth, trembling as his tongue lapped against hers, as his hands delicately cupped her face. The weight of his body was deliciously pressing down against her and she clung to his back as if that might stop her from drowning. They kissed with their whole bodies, with their hearts, until it was impossible to know when the next kiss started and the last one ended.

She thought, maybe, caving into this desire would sate the beast rising inside her. But every stroke of his tongue only set her fever burning higher.

“Shh,” he murmured, pulling back as she released a desperate cry. “Breathe, bugaboo.”

It was like without his breaths she would cease to breathe. “Chat…”

“I’m not crushing you, am I?”

He was already moving back and she firmly pulled down his waist, pressing his hard length against her thigh. She wondered what it would feel like a little higher, if they would pleasure each other the same way they had done on the Eiffel Tower. His eyes widened and he pulled away.

Marinette wanted to die. “Stop worrying, Chat.”

“Right, sorry,” he huffed, trying to catch his breath. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

“You aren’t,” she insisted, letting her palm stroke his neck. The heady pressure of him above her still hadn’t managed to capture the ghostly way he wavered and, in some ways, she wondered if she was dreaming again. But when she pulled the surprised air from his lips, when her fingers stroked wry tendrils of hair, when every single touch electrified her pulse, she _knew_ this was real. And for once, she wasn’t afraid of waking up and the torment that followed.

Because there was no way in hell she could ever regret this.

Maybe he too was trying to ground himself of the reality between them. For so long he had been chasing her image, idly dreaming of a fantasy of the superhero façade that covered her. She wondered if, just in the way he responded to her crush, he couldn’t accept she was actually here.

“Chat,” she breathed, kissing the space between his jaw and ear. “Did you ever imagine it would happen like this? What did you fantasize would happen when you told me?”

He groaned, the sound wonderfully floating by her ear.

“You can’t imagine what I …”

“Show me,” she dared, pushing his nose back with his finger. “That’s an order.”

He chuckled, holding the defiant finger between two teeth. Then he licked.

“That,” he teased, as she quickly pulled her finger back. “Every. Single. Time.”

Marinette blushed, thinking of the mischievous look he’d give her every time she pushed him away, that look that used to frustrate and confuse her. She’d though if she could be firm enough, he might drop his romantic interest in her, that every insistent push would be the last. Deep down, when knowing those flirty puns would end with him sidling into her space, whenever she took the casual excuse to boop his nose, she hadn’t been pushing him away at all.

“So, you’re back to domming again?” he asked, tilting his head curiously.

_One more push,_ she smiled, knowing he’d always responded better to teasing. “I mean, if you’re going to nervously mess around, one of us needs to get it together.”

“You really want me to go through with this, don’t you?” Chat hummed, with a devilish smirk. “Fine, if you want to go further then take off your shirt, my lady.”

 

\---

 

As expected, Marinette bit her lip, blinking in disbelief. She could be so forceful and demanding, so bratty and defiant that he had no choice but to obey, desperate to spoil her in any way she pleased. He thought about his guilty fantasies after their last classroom rendezvous, his own wicked imaginings of removing her clothes and orally pleasuring her until she screamed, imagining her desperately ordering him to not stop, still hanging on to that illusion of control. It wasn’t until he’d seen her after Monstra, the nervous flickering in her eyes as she impishly tried to tempt him, that he’d realized that even though she could dish it out his lady may not be able to take it.  

“Too far?” He asked, watching the gears of her mind turn. He had known when he said it that he was crossing the line. But the fact that she was considering it anyway...

“What if someone sees?” She whispered, as if that would wash away her loud moaning from before.

“I won’t let them,” he assured, stroking her almost translucent cheek. “I’m already covering you and your balcony wall overhangs the street anyway. Unless you don’t want _me_ to see?”

“No!” She protested firmly. “It’s just that…”

She bit her lip, debating with herself. He waited, enjoying the crinkles on her nose.

“What if you don’t like it?”

Chat laughed. Did she really have no idea how many fantasies he'd held about her bare skin?

Marinette pushed his face away with annoyance. “I’m serious!”

It made him think of when he’d bared himself for her. The titillating cocktail of fear and excitement, his rising doubts of his own adequacy, the dam of memories bursting with every prod and insult his father delivered upon him. _Am I childish?_ She had nervously texted. He’d thought she meant her personality. But staring down at her small body under his, remembering Alya playfully using her as an armrest, thinking of all her loud posturing, he started understanding everything she _wasn’t_ saying. That maybe the reason she liked Ladybug so much was because, for once, she wasn't patronized or ignored. He wanted to show her, in the same way she had shown him, that her body was perfect for him. He slid his hand up her stomach, breaching the space between them, palm casing her breast. Her nipple pebbled under the slight pressure of his glove, the tissue of her breast delightfully soft, and he smiled softly.

“We fit.”

He balanced back on his knees, placing his other hand on her chest, cupping the faded gray of her tank softly. Her eyes were almost as bright as glass beneath the wayward mess of her hair and a slight flush was spreading across her skin. She looked disheveled and he was desperate for more even as the guilt burgeoning in his mind told him to back off.

Still, he found himself saying, “I can already feel how perfect you are. Will you show me?"

“Mm,” she managed, trembling. He moved back, reveling in the way she arched her back, the slow glide of fabric revealing the curve of her waist. The small mounds of her breasts jiggled as the tank tightly fit over them, her tiny pink nipples hard and upturned as if calling to him. He could stare at her a thousand times and still not be sated.

“Better than I imagined,” he praised, fingers pressing up against her abs. “You’re beautiful.”

Marinette’s pout grew and he could already hear her argumentative denials. But as his claws traced the curved of her breasts, she only grew quieter, her breaths hitching with anticipation.

He squeezed, amazed by how soft and giving she felt beneath his fingers. She let out a small noise as she shuddered and he stopped, “Fuck, is that too hard?”

“Harder,” she pleaded, her commands failing to hold weight. Both hands squeezed her, moving in light rotations, rhythmically pressing and releasing her mounds, her nipple tightly gliding through his fingers. She arched her back, moaning.

“You’re really feeling it,” he teased, thumbs circling over her nipples as he pressed her breasts together, growing more excited by the give and feel of her. “Do you do this to yourself?”

Marinette bit her lip as he stopped moving.

“Well?”

“Y-yes…”

Chat licked his lips, wondering how they would feel beneath them. “Show me how.”

Marinette looked up at him, then down at her trembling body. “Chat…”

“You know you want to,” he teased, lightly running his hands down her waist. God, she fit perfectly in his palms. His thumbs rested on her stomach, stark against her pale skin. “That’s why you took off your shirt for me, right, my lady? You _want_ me to see you aching with pleasure.”

Slowly, so damn slowly, she took her hands and placed them over herself, like a shy girl walked in on, or a mermaid breaching the shore. He wanted a picture of the moment, the exact moment where her pride crumbled and she started massaging. Her fingers moved in waves, entrancing him with their delicate touch. Her eyes never left his and he lost his breath when she tweaked her nipples between two fingers, the way the buds throbbed into a rosy red, the way every part of her body silently challenged him.

“You’re such a cute little pervert,” he praised, placing his hands over hers. She sighed, arching her back for him, sliding her knuckles out and over his. “You really do like it hard.”

“Mm!” She bit down as he pinched. Arching harder as he tugged.

“St-stop,” she begged, the desire in her voice making him throb for her. Chat leaned forward, catching her lips in his to quiet the moans rising against his tongue, heart soaring when she pulled him closer, tongue twisting wickedly with his.

“Bugaboo, I’m just getting started,” he warned, pulling up for air, sliding kisses on her jaw. “I like seeing you desperate. I want you so turned on you don’t even remember your own name. I want you so desperate that you'll die if I don't touch you. Make me stop now, before I can’t.”

“I … ngh, Chat,” she moaned, grabbing his bell. “Take. It. Off.”

Chat blinked, watching her try to tug his bell down. She whimpered with frustration when the suit refused to budge. Both of them knew the only real way to take the suit off was detransform.

“You know I can’t,” he sighed, hand over hers. “Not without the mask.”

“Next time, we’ll try it without the suit,” she demanded, looking fierce. “I promised.”

Chat shuddered, desperate for her to look at his face, terrified of it. Even as he liked to think this meant she didn’t care who he was beneath it all, he wasn’t deluded enough to think that true.

“Close your eyes.”

 

\---

 

Marinette met with darkness, listening to the haggard breathing above her, to her own chaotic breaths. She knew it was crazy asking him for this. Forcing him to pleasure her on her balcony, spending time with him without her mask, demanding he remove his, challenging him and demanding more. They were reckless and stupid. Yet, every rule she bent had her desperately pushing harder.

Chat moved her hands back against the lounger, facing up to the sky.

“Don’t move,” he requested, sounding more forceful. It made her wonder what he was so anxious to hide. He was the one that dragged her into the light, forcing her to reveal herself, demanding she know the truth of him. Yet, even now, it felt like he didn’t want her to know. It made absolutely no sense and yet she knew it mattered to him. After everything she had pushed him through, the unfair accusations, the demands, the emotional turmoil, she didn't want him to face the same shock and confusion she did when her identity was outed. She wanted to let him trust her on his own terms.

“Claws in,” he murmured, and a green light flashed even over the darkness of her eyelids.

“I’M NOT LOOKING! NOPE. NO SIR-EE, OH HI TIKKI!” The cat kwami said, zooming away. “HAVE FUN WITHOUT ME!” Chat, or whoever the hell he was now, chuckled above her.

“He means well,” Chat said, turning back to her. Her heart was thudding in anticipation. All she had to do was open her eyes. Would he be angry? Did he truly not want her to know?

“Are you still okay?”

“I’m fine,” she soothed, feeling exposed. She could feel every inch of cold air between them. She heard clothing rustle and could smell a faint cologne. Soft and slightly floral, a hint of lavender, a comforting feeling, and something so familiar in it that she couldn’t place. 

“Lift up your head,” he asked, cupping her neck. Feeling like he might disappear if she questioned a single action, she did so, surprised as light cotton pressed against her eyes. “Is that comfortable?”

_Oh._ He was blindfolding her. “Yes, it’s fine.”

“Can you see my hand?”

Marinette nervously relaxed her eyes, seeing a hint of shadows reaching. “A little. Not really.”

“Should be fine,” he muttered, adjusting the cloth around her ears. “Are you sure about this?”

“I thought you were going to make me forget my name,” she teased, tantalized by the desperate way he’d choked out those words. How he could so easily say the dirtiest yet sweetest things.

“Yes, I … god I sound arrogant,” he huffed, the sound he usually made before ruffling his own hair. The sudden nervousness only made him that much dearer. “I don’t want to take things too far.”

Marinette brushed her thighs together, feeling a bit daring as she arched her back again. “Why not?”

“You’re such a tease,” he grumbled, surprising her with a quick kiss. “Be a good girl and wait.”

Those words made her feel like useless goo. He pulled her wrists in, tying them with the same cloth on her face, the knots delicate and light. She tested her range of movement, feeling a lot of give, knowing she could maneuver herself out if need be. He had pulled away again and she wondered if he watched her struggle, what was going on in his head as he restrained her.

Not knowing tormented her. “Touch me. Please.”

“As you wish, my lady.” Bare skin caressed her cheeks, sliding down her neck and she trembled. His fingers were large and so different from hers, soft and hard all at the same time. Those hands made it back to her breasts again, warmer than the distant leather, awakening every nerve and ending as they cupped her, the cool band of his ring only making the moment more tantalizing. Maybe it was because he had no mask or maybe it was because she wasn’t watching him, but his hands felt more sure, confident as they massaged her sensitive skin.

“So good,” she praised, languishing in his touch. He hummed, tongue sliding against hers, almost in rhythm with the light rotation of his hands. She pressed against him, desperately curious if she would find his chest bare, surprised when he scattered kisses down her neck instead.

“Marinette,” he whispered, against her skin. Then he lightly sucked, tongue stroking between her neck and shoulder. Marinette moaned, hand twitching to cover her own lips, the sound spilling out when she could do nothing.  _If it keeps on like this, we might wake someone up!_

“Stop, Chat,” she begged as he released.

“Shh, bugaboo,” he sighed, sucking again. Marinette bit down on her lip, wondering if a person could pass out from indulgent pleasure, if she would reach her limit before he even got past kissing her.

“You’re so erotic,” he teased, squeezing her breasts as his lips touched her collarbone. “Would you like me to kiss your breasts too?”

Marinette whimpered; unsure she could take much more of this.

“Well?”

“Okay,” she managed, proud of herself for that.

“I think you can do better than okay,” he pressed, voice sending shivers against her skin. “You’re always demanding with me, and you practically begged me to undress you and touch you, no need to act coy now. Where’s all your orders now, bugaboo? Will you show me more? What shall I do next?”

“I don’t think I can take much more of this,” she confessed, shaking.

Chat laughed, breathy and hoarse. “But I haven’t even started yet.”

“Then start already!” She snapped, desperate. “What the hell are you waiting for?” Chat’s hands moved away, cupping her face again as his thumb played with her bottom lip.

“Beg for it. Show me how much you want this."

“Suck on my breasts you damned cat,” she whispered fiercely.

 Chat kissed the plea off her lips. “There’s my princess.”

Then the heat of his tongue lapped her nipple. She shuddered, rising into the motion as he began to kiss. Her breasts were starting to feel sore from all the hard attention and yet she arched into it, moaning again as he pinched the other one with his fingers, unaware that she could feel this intense pleasure from such a small part of herself.

“Chat, Chat,” she chanted, wondering if she’d cum just from this.

“You’re radiant, my lady,” he praised, moving up to brush the sweaty hair off her brow. “I would pleasure you until the sun rises. Your beautiful voice would be the first thing Paris wakes to. Everyone would hear you screaming my name on your lips and they'd know just how much you loved every moment of it.”

Another tormenting kiss and she wanted to scream then and there. Especially as part of her wanted to unfurl below him, fall into this fantasy, let everyone see them, sans their masks, and know that she belonged to this infuriating, sweet, passionate man. But they didn’t have all night. And when the sun finally did rise reality would come crashing in and the consequences would be too much for either of them to bear. In frustration, she shimmied under him, clamped her legs around his hips, and ground her aching pussy against his cock.

“Now, Chaton,” she ordered, flexing.

Chat swore on his breath, curling forward with pleasure, his bare chest faintly touching hers. He slid his fingers between them, surprising her by cupping her damp shorts.

“Do you want to cum on my hand or my dick?”

His hands were splaying her open, pushing her down into the lounger. He could probably get her off in seconds if he wanted to and she would be helpless to it. Yet, he gripped and waited, trying to slow his own breaths against her ear. She wanted him to feel just as helpless.

“I want your dick.”

 

\---

 

Adrien trembled, overwhelmed by the soft give of her in his hand. The muscle was softer than he expected, completely soaked and giving beneath his fingers. All of it evidence to how much she wanted this. After everything he had done, she still wanted this.

“Greedy princess,” he teased, removing his hand so she could grind against him. He moaned, holding onto her hips, entranced by the way her body undulated beneath him. It was so like her, even bound and blindfolded, to take charge of the situation. Even with the layers of clothing between them, he could still feel the way her folds shaped around him, pulling him in.

“There, there,” she mewled, twisting beneath him, feeling so much closer than they had in their suits.

“Ngh,” he could barely manage words, let alone move, knowing she was about to come against him. He moved back on his knees, trying to get space to think, and she rose up to meet him. He stared down at her aroused body, stomach and hips rising to take his, wrists tugging against the shirt sleeves wrapping them. His hands cupped her ass, enjoying the way it tightened as he thrust against her.

“Make me cum,” she begged, growing louder. He leaned into a harder thrust, and covered her mouth with his hand. Her lips vibrated on his fingers as she trembled and his hips jerked to meet her frenetic pace. Her orgasm hit first, shocking him with a wave of pleasure as he came after.

Slowly, he pulled back, and her legs opened like flower petals beneath him. Her cheek pressed against one of her clenched fists as she tried to catch her breath again. His awareness started to return and he realized he was untransformed and half naked, exposed for the world to see, clutching an equally half-naked and completely debauched classmate beneath him. One who, if she were free from her bindings, would surely be just as shocked and horrified from the sight as any passerby.

“Are you alright?” he murmured, pulling back his fingers to see the faint print of bruises on her waist.

Her smile flicked up, looking so cute and cocky underneath the makeshift cover of his shirt. “Are you?”

Adrien kissed the smirk right off her face, getting lost in the soft give of her, the same way he had imagined kissing her for months. And just like all those hazy fantasies, the hardest part was figuring out how to stop. When he finally did and she lazily lay beneath him, breaths relaxing against his, he knew he would kiss her as often and as much as time would still allow him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, wow, so yeah, yup that happened. How you guys doing?
> 
> Adrien is obviously a big supporter of orgasm delay and secretly enjoys getting her hot and bothered. If Marinette weren't so impatient he probably would have kept this up for hours. But Marinette, once again, demanded to ride that dick and here we are. It may seem like a bit of the same but Marinette encouraging this sort of intimacy is definitely a big deal considering how distant she was in the beginning. Imagine if she knew her actions would lead her here, haha. 
> 
> One more chapter of fluff to finish up this lovely night and then the next arc will begin. Stay tuned!


	38. All Yours

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: An actual attempt at communication

Marinette breathed through cotton, taking in subtle scents of detergent of the makeshift mask covering her face, surprised by how much his familiar smell relaxed her. Chat had slowly redressed her, peppering her face and neck with kisses as he did so, whispering erotic compliments all the while.

Her favorite: “Skin this soft should always be bathed in moonlight.”

Her legs felt warm again as her thighs squeezed together. Even though she was laying in her lounger, the same one she used every summer day, she felt like she was melting on clouds. Sometimes, she’d orgasmed to help with stress, on sleepless nights where her thoughts couldn’t stop churning and she furiously worked herself to a quick finish. But she’d never felt this sated. Or relaxed.

The trapdoor opened and footsteps padded across her balcony. Bare feet. She’d guess Chat had been in pajamas, but she still soaked in the detail anyway, enjoying the fact that he enjoyed plush cotton and matching sets. He sat beside her, releasing a heavy breath.

“You find everything alright?” She asked, surprised by how languid her voice sounded.

“Yeah,” he whispered, taking her hand in his. “Tikki showed me around.”

Marinette blushed, knowing she’d have to face the music eventually and that Tikki would have thoughts about how the night had escalated. After all, the two of them were so young and they weren’t really dating and there were so many other things she needed to—

“Tikki’s happy,” he said, startling her out of her thoughts. “She wanted you to know.”

Marinette’s heart fluttered nervously. “You talked?”

“She’s a good listener,” he chuckled. “And a little bit nosy.”

Nosy about what? Marinette longed to know what passed between them. Then she grew suspicious. “Wait, she didn’t recognize you, did she? Is that what you talked about?”

Chat placed one of her soft wool blankets over her legs. The intimacy of him covering her sent unexpected butterflies to her stomach. As did the way he took her hand in his again.

“They’ve known who we were longer than I have,” he admitted, his voice betraying no emotion over this fact. “Since Dark Owl apparently.”

Marinette jolted up. “Are you serious? That was almost a year ago!”

Tikki knew who Chat was for a whole year and didn’t tell her? Of course, she knew that Plagg knew her, they had interacted a couple times, but Chat wasn’t supposed to know that. At least, that’s what Tikki and Master Fu had told her. _Wait, so does he know because Plagg told him?_

“He didn’t tell me, by the way,” Chat affirmed, as if reading her mind. “He’s very big on not interfering with things. He doesn’t like to talk about it much, but I think the whole ‘being of destruction’ bothers him sometimes. Doesn’t want to make things worse.”

When she first met Plagg she hadn’t known what to think. She’d just assumed all kwami’s were consciences or guides. Tikki took her role very seriously and even outside of superhero work she was constantly guiding Marinette out of trouble. It was weird to think Chat didn’t have that. It made her wonder what their relationship was actually like.

“What did he say when you told him you knew?” Marinette asked. She felt Chat’s hand tighten.

“Well, he certainly didn’t tell me I was right,” Chat huffed. Just that sound had her imagining the wry smile he sometimes wore when he talked about the kwami’s antics. “Just asked me what I would do with the information and told me that if I told you, I needed to be ready for you to know who I am.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Were you?”

“Honestly?” He shivered again. “I don’t know.”

It was the one thing she couldn’t wrap her head around. He had been so adamant when he first confronted her, even more so the next day, that he share his identity with her. Yet, now he seemed hesitant, almost cautious with exposing clues about himself. She thought, after everything they’d been through, he’d be leaping at the chance. What changed his mind?  

“You’re probably freezing,” she murmured, as his shivers grew. “Bare foot and no shirt and yet you only grab one blanket for me. Yeesh.”

Chat started to rise, “I can get another one—”

“Just get over here,” she mumbled, lifting up the blanket. Chat hesitated, and she felt embarrassed and awkward as the cold air moved between them. Once again, it felt like miles were between them and she wondered why, after everything they had done, he was still pulling away. It made her want to bind him, so tight and taunt that he'd have no choice but to explain what was going on in his head, no reason to leave her side so suddenly. 

Then, very carefully, he laid beside her, taking the blanket out of her hand to cover himself. They weren’t quite touching but she could feel his imprint there, hear the nervous breaths on his lips.

“Are you going to hold me or what?” she mumbled impatiently, glad her face was covered.

“Is that a request?” he laughed, placing a possessive hand on her hip. “I didn’t realize you were a cuddler, my lady. Then again, you do have all those stuffed animals. And we’ve already talked about your sexy fondness for body pillows.”

“Oh my god I will throw you off this roof,” she hissed, letting out a little squeak when he wrapped his arm around her back. His bare shoulder was just under her head and she could hear the soft beating of his heart.

“As long as you catch me afterwards,” he teased, ruffling her hair and releasing a strangely satisfied sigh. Marinette blinked in the darkness, feeling the tight muscle of his chest under her fingers. Without the exciting hormones and breakneck pace of their sessions, she was even more nervous than usual. A wonderful, beautiful, mysterious boy, was holding her in his arms. A boy who she was hopelessly falling harder and harder for and yet she didn’t even know his name. She swallowed, her heart hammering.

“Why?” The sound was desperate.

“Hm?” he murmured, stroking her hair.

“Why don’t you know?”

 

\---

 

Adrien released a nervous breath. Just being able to hold her close, feeling her legs tangle with his, her hands nestled between them, her own words against his chest quieter than a whisper, was almost too much to bear. She asked him what he fantasized and this was it. He couldn’t count the number of nights he held his pillow close, imagining that whatever mysterious girl under the mask was holding him back. That—despite everything that was wrong with him, every flippant rejection from her, the offhand jokes about being able to save Paris without him—that she actually needed him. That she wanted him.

To finally have that? Only to lose it everything once she learned the truth?

“I thought you would hate me,” he whispered, damning himself. “The moment I told you, I knew you’d never forgive me and yet I couldn’t keep my damn mouth shut.”

“Chat…” Ladybug murmured, pulling him closer to embrace him. “I don’t hate you.”

“I…” Damn it, why did he always show her the worst of himself? Why couldn’t he be stronger? Or dependable for once? But the warmth of her, the _reality_ that she was finally beside him, washed away his defenses. Everything that had happened these past few weeks, all of his anticipation, the anxiety, the doubts, came flooding back. He knew damned well that he was walking a thin line. One wrong word would have his father disown him. One wrong gesture and Ladybug might hate him. One more failure and Plagg might abandon him forever. He needed to be cold and hard. Everything his father demanded he be. The way he should have been when his mother disappeared out of his life, leaving him with this empty void in his chest he could never fill. He thought if he could just push himself a little harder, it wouldn’t matter anymore.

But then he thought of Marinette’s voice on the receiver telling him that sometimes he just needed to let it out and have a good cry and how, although that was far gentler than he deserved, he found himself wanting to melt in her arms as exhaustion threatened to take him.

“I don’t hate you,” she repeated, stroking his back. “I could never hate you.”

Adrien choked back a sob, wishing to whatever god dictated his fate, that those words were true. Marinette lifted her shoulder up, reaching forward just enough to kiss him.

“I’m sorry, Chat,” she whispered, lips tracing his. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you.”

She clumsily cupped his face, trying to wipe away his tears even with the blindfold, and he melted.

“I shouldn’t have yelled or threatened you. I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”

He captured her wrist. “It’s fine, Mari. You had every right to be upset.”

“I was scared,” she admitted softly. “And I took it out on you.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay,” she insisted, her tone furious. “I was stupid and I hurt you. Like I always do.”

“I hurt myself,” he argued, needing her to understand. “I spent all this time thinking you hated me and if I just opened up my eyes and stopped feeling sorry for myself, I would have realized …”

He stopped himself. If he hadn’t been so preoccupied with thinking she hated him he might have seen that she was nervous and shy. That his own persistence had heightened her nervousness around him. Maybe their own anxieties and assumptions about each other had over-complicated their friendship into stilted hellos and awkward goodbyes. 

“Realized what?”

“You would never treat anyone like that. Not even me.” It was truth, even as he used it to cover up another lie.

Her soft caresses as she stroked his face almost undid him. “I should have been the one to realize—seriously, I’m a fucking wreck— but I thought you didn't even care. You were just so cocky and self-assured. No matter what the Hawkmoth threw at us, you never let it get you down, you never stopped fighting. I thought nothing bothered you.”

It was almost flattering. Every fight felt like he was scrambling, balancing to figure out how to best support Ladybug, save civilians, keep the akumatized victim unharmed, prevent his own powers from destroying something. Meanwhile Ladybug became cool and confident, always finding solutions and saving the day no matter what Hawkmoth threw at them. She'd been forced to save him countless times, just as he had been forced by akuma to fight her, and yet she still saw them as equals. 

“Everyone thinks Ladybug is some amazing perfect person and somehow I manage to keep the lie going. It should have been obvious that you were doing the same thing. You’re the only other person who understands just how hard being a superhero is. I shouldn’t have made it harder.”

Adrien blinked back tears, trying to lighten the mood. “Why? I thought you liked me hard.”

Marinette breathed sharply through her nose and he couldn’t hold back his own laugh. She tapped her forehead against his sternum, letting out a huge sigh. “You’re an idiot. We’re both idiots.”

“Well, you know what they say, birds of a feather—"

Marinette cut him off with an impatient kiss and he shivered, sidling closer to return it, his whole body filling with warmth and the faint twinge of arousal. They lost themselves to it, running out of breath, and when she pulled back, he desperately wished he could see her eyes claiming him.

“Wow, if I knew that would stop your annoying puns and idioms, I would have kissed you way sooner.”

Her curves shone in the moonlight as she propped herself over him, almost as shocking as her sultry voice. Chat grinned, helpless to resist the urge to tease her.

“Except now I’m just going to have to entice you with that much more of them.”

Marinette smiled and he found himself imagining what an akuma fight would be like interspersed with witty flirtations and forceful kisses. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, I’d feel a little bad if my sexiness starts distracting you,” he joked, pulling them further and further away from the dangerous subject of his identity, letting himself fall into the banter. “I guess I really do need to hold back on the puns so you can focus on your job. For the sake of Paris.”

“For the sake of Paris,” she repeated flatly, settling back down to cuddle again. “Whatever.”

The easy dismissal gave him little to work off of so he stayed quiet and relaxed in her arms. It was hard to tell how long they had been up here, and he was exhausted, but he couldn’t find the heart to leave. So, he stayed, enjoying the silence as sleep tried to creep on him.

“Chat?” She finally said.

“Hm?”

“You don’t have to hide your identity because of me. Not that I’m ordering you to tell me or anything, I don’t want you to feel pressured, it’s not like you have to, I mean, I do want to know because that would make things a whole lot easier, NOT that I have a problem with things right now, and not EASIER, there will be other problems to deal with…you’re not a problem, I didn’t mean that, I just—"

“Shhh,” he chastised, kissing her forehead, the same way he wanted to every day in class. She grew quiet again, a bundle of nervous energy. It made sense; she’d spent such a long time demanding he keep his identity hidden that just the idea probably upset her. As used to this rambling as he was, he’d never really seen it when she thought she was talking to Chat. Plus, she was getting a little better around Adrien. _What did I do that made her so nervous in the first place? Am I doing it again?_

“But you understand what I’m saying, right?” She pressed. “You can tell me whenever you want. Or never. I promise I’ll try not to overreact or anything. And I definitely won’t hate you.”

Even against the self-doubt in his mind, Adrien wanted to believe her. “Thanks, Bugaboo.”

Her grip on his back tightened. “Um, I do have one favor to ask though.”

“Yes?” His heart raced nervously.

“I want to tell Alya.”

Adrien, who had probably been seconds away from slumber-land, snapped to attention. “Wait, tell Alya what?”

“Well, not who you are, obviously, that would be all over the Ladyblog in a heartbeat—”

“Obviously,” he snorted, amused that was the component she chose to emphasize instead of the fact that she actually didn’t know herself. And that she seemed to think he knew what she was talking about. Ladybug was far too paranoid to let the reporter know anything about their identities. So why mention Alya at all?

“And I can’t tell her I’m dating Chat Noir because everyone knows you are into Ladybug and Hawkmoth might send akuma after me or my family and I discover that I’m Ladybug and—”

“Breathe, bugaboo,” he chided, rubbing her back. Then he stopped. _Did she just say dating?_

“I mean, she already knows about the internet friend so I can just say you’re my online boyfriend. She’ll be a bit nosy about it at first, but I’m sure she’ll stop asking if I explain why.”

Adrien’s heart leaped. “Online boyfriend? Wh-why would you tell her that?”

“Well, she’s been getting kind of suspicious. She’s a great friend, don’t get me wrong, but when she starts shipping, she gets relentless. The past year she’s done everything she can to force me into situations with the guy I had a crush on—which I fucked up of course because I’m a walking disaster—and now she’s mad because I’m not into him and a bit worried because I was IN to him. Like stalker level, I mean, you’ve seen my room, god I’m embarrassing, please don’t tease me about it.”

Adrien couldn’t think of anything in her room that was particularly stalker-ish. He was just there and all he saw was outfit sketches, half-constructed outfits on manikins, and tons of fashion magazine posters. Then again, she had known he was coming today, maybe she hid everything? Or maybe she wasn’t a stalker at all and her anxiety was getting the better of her. Sometimes it was so hard to tell.

“The POINT is I want her to stop bothering me about it and I think she has a right to know. She won’t tell anyone except her boyfriend Nino, I swear. Just let me know if it’s okay with you.”

Except Adrien knew for a fact that Nino would tell everything to him. Which would mean he’d have to listen and contribute to discussions about an internet boyfriend all while pretending the internet boyfriend wasn’t him. The internet boyfriend that was apparently secretly dating the love of his life.

“Marinette, are we dating?”

Marinette hesitated and he immediately regretted the question. They were in a dom-sub relationship, nothing more, nothing less. She probably just wanted to pull this internet ruse to get Alya to stop bothering her. They had already passed the normal friendship boundaries so he supposed it made sense that she would feel comfortable asking him to fake-date her. He didn't particularly mind, but he'd have to make sure he didn't get more false hopes than he was already carrying. 

Then, she quietly asked, “Do you not want to?”

Adrien bit down his own depression. “I don’t mind. Alya’s a good person. I trust her.”

He thought Marinette would be satisfied with that answer but she grew pensive instead. “I meant the dating part, Chat. Yes, I want to tell Alya, but if _you_ don’t think we…”

Adrien swallowed, butterflies in his stomach, ashamed of his own daring. “Are you asking me out?”

“Aren’t we kind of already going out?”

_Did I fall asleep earlier?_ Adrien wondered, stunned by implications of her words.

“Chat, come on, do you really think I’d do these kinds of things with just anyone?”

Hope burgeoned in his chest. “You said we were just trying things out together.”

“I know,” Marinette groaned, burying her face in his chest. “I’m an idiot.”

Adrien grinned. “Plagg called us sex friends, you know.”

Marinette pulled back. “We AREN’T sex friends! Wait, did you think we were sex friends?”

“I dunno, you weren’t really clear what we were,” he teased, unfamiliar with the intensity of the happiness capturing his heart. "You  _did_ tell me you weren't my girlfriend. How was I supposed to know you didn't mean it?" Had Marinette really consider them as partners all this time? _But … she told me she still liked the other guy. When did that change?_

“Look, I just … I don’t know, it was strange and I was interested and ugh, okay SOMETIMES I can be a bit stubborn, alright?” Marinette flummoxed, growing more and more fidgety.

"Hmmm, you also told me that I wasn't supposed to be involved with Marinette and yet here we are on her balcony. I thought you said you didn't like liars, my lady."

He almost wanted to say to hell with it and pull off the blindfold, overly interested in how cute and nervous she must look right now. 

"It's not like I knew this would happen! Why are you even teasing me, you got what you wanted anyway, you bully." Her voice was almost squeaky with nerves and, maybe he was a bully, because he couldn't help but find that endearing. Exhilarating, even. He pulled her wrists in his, tugging her back to him, letting his lips playfully caress her palm.

"What did you think would happen when you offered to tie me up and punish me, bugaboo?"

“You were the one that offered! What was I supposed to say?” 

“Will you go out with me?” he whispered, shimming down to kiss her, stealing her breath until she was panting beneath him in stunned silence. He stared down at her, feeling a strange sense of ownership when he saw the way her petite form fit perfectly under his. 

She reached through the darkness, cupping his face to hold him in place, her fingers like hot brands. He could imagine the intensity she always held in her eyes when she latched onto a new plan.

“Will you go out with me?” She demanded, her tone the same righteous one she held when she tried ordering him around. The one that was so sure of itself, he couldn’t contemplate another option.

If his heart grew any fuller, he might die. “I’m all yours.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can you believe it took this long for them to be in an official relationship? 
> 
> Marinette's finally 100% in, squashing all those doubts without mercy, asking out her boy like she's always wanted to. Imagine her shock when she learns she finally asked out Adrien Agreste. Or that he said yes. 
> 
> What did the kwami's and Adrien talk about? How will Alya react to the internet boyfriend? 
> 
> Thanks for your continued support!


	39. Curtain Call

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Back in business.

Marinette woke up to the sunlight banking over her balcony, squinting her eyes as the sun pierced them. She whimpered and Chat gave a husky laugh, drawing his claws gently through her messy hair.

“Sorry, bugaboo, just needed my shirt back,” he whispered, kissing her forehead.

“We fell asleep?” she murmured, her brain not quite online.

He caressed her face. “Best cat nap of my life. But, you gotta wake up sometime and I’ve got a morning shoot to take care of. See you later, sleeping beauty.”

Chat gave her one more kiss and she sighed into it, falling back into a deep slumber.

The next thing she knew, Tikki was tapping her face erratically and repeating her name. Marinette groaned, swatting her away when the door to her room squeaked open.

“Marinette, there you are! I’ve told you not to sleep out on the balcony, you’ll get a cold!” Her mother scolded, stomping right up to her. “You’re going to be late for school again!”

Marinette jolted up, scrambling her blanket off, wincing from the cold. “Sorry maman!”

Sabine shook her head in exasperation. “You and your father. He’s already at it this morning, saying we lost a shipment of cheese, if you could believe it. Who would even want to steal raw cheese? At least take the cream cheese frosting. It has a secret pinch of cinnamon in it.”

Marinette had a creeping suspicion she knew exactly what happened to that cheese. “Y-yeah, mom that is super weird, isn’t it?”

But her mother was already looking over the balcony, face tightening in distaste at the dishes. “Oh, and you left your dishes out here again. Hurry up and get dressed before you’re late, but next time you need to clean up after yourself do you understand?”

“Yes, Maman,” she sighed in shame, climbing down the ladder.

“Marinette?”

She peeked her head over the floorboards. “Yes?”

“Why are there two mugs out here?”

Her face flushed. “B-because I was r-really thirsty?”

Her mom put a hand on her waist. “And you couldn’t just use the same mug?”

_Fuckity fuck, I’m screwed,_ Marinette panicked. “I didn’t want to make two trips!”

Sabine stared at the mugs in her hands and then back to her daughter, a wry smile on her lips. Marinette’s own smile wavered, nervous as the ticking of her heart trying to rap off excuses.

“Marinette, school?”

“RIGHT!” She shouted, rushing down the ladder, almost tripping on the final step. She threw on some clothes and ran into her bathroom, crouching on the ground and trying not to panic. Tikki floating through the door, looking equally stressed and anxious.

“Marinette, I’m so sorry, I tried to stop him but he’s such a glutton!”

“How much did he eat?”

Tikki frowned. “You don’t wanna know. Your father seems pretty upset.”

“Why does he even like cheese? He’s a cat, isn’t he?”

“He’s a kwami,” Tikki said primly. “And a terrible judge of taste.”

“Yeah, no kidding,” Marinette snorted, standing up to pat Tikki’s head. “Thanks for trying, anyway.”

Her eyes widened as she saw the time on her monitor. “AHHH!”

After thirty minutes of scrambling and running out the door with a half eaten croissant, Marinette’s sleep-deprived brain finally made it online, along with the memory of everything that occurred last night. Chat holding her, kissing her, god that boy had _kissed_ her, so much so that she’d forgotten how to breathe, that even in the cold frost of the morning her lips thrummed with traces of his touch.

_Did mom notice?_ _Do people act different after they kiss?_ She’d heard guys accuse each other of behaving like virgins, which meant there was some sort of distinction, she supposed, but damn if she could tell the difference. Technically, speaking she was still ‘pure’—disgustingly derogative as _that_ sounded—which was crazy considering everything they’d gotten up to.

_He totally saw me naked,_ she freaked, clutching her jacket tightly as her feet hit he pavement outside school. Someone was walking around this campus, knowing exactly how her breasts look, hell how they tasted, and she had no idea who the hell that person was. Fuck, she had no idea who the hell she was, not with the way she'd been last night. Just hearing his words, passionate and daring as they were debauched, she'd become a creature of her own desire, deluded and hedonistic.

“Are you okay?” Tikki asked, when she clamored into the bathroom, running into a stall and locking the latch, feeling like the walls were not small enough to contain her.

“What the hell am I doing TIkki?”

“Going to class, I hope,” the kwami answered wryly.

“Seriously, I don’t even know his name!”

The kwami blinked, floating down slightly, her face thoughtful. “Oh, that.”

“OH, THAT. Thanks, Tikki!” Marinette hyperventilated, clutching her chest. “I’m dating a total stranger.”

Tikki’s voice was calm, steady. “You two have worked together for years, Marinette.”

Marinette traced her still sore lips, whispering. “I’m in love with a stranger.”

“I know you’re having a hard time, but maybe this isn’t the best place to talk about it,” Tikki said firmly, pulling her fingers back, drawing her in with those hypnotically large eyes. “Deep breath, get through the day, and we’ll figure out everything later.”

“You know who he is,” Marinette murmured, trying to steady her breathing. “That’s why you’re so calm about this.”

Tikki flinched, almost biting her lip, and damn something like betrayal cropped in her heart. Logically, she knew it wasn’t Tikki’s fault for doing her job. No one told Chat to go all Sherlock and figure out who she was. Even if Tikki had wanted to tell her, even if Marinette had wanted to ask, both of them couldn’t have betrayed Master Fu that way.

_Except you haven’t told him anything since this started, have you?_ The dark side of her asked.  She had no idea how Master Fu would react. But if he knew the full extent of it, the twisted way they coiled around each other, she had no doubt he would take her miraculous away.

“Chat will tell you if you ask him. If you really want to know his identity, he's not hiding it from you,” Tikki finally said. “But I don’t think you want that.”

“No, I don’t,” Marinette sighed, taking a deep breath. She pinched her nose, massaging the crease between her eyes, feeling the panic start to blur. “He knew exactly who I was. Marinette, the clumsy emotional wreck, and he still _liked_ me. Despite everything...”

Part of her hoped, despite how nonsensical it was, that being Marinette was why he loved her. Ladybug had been his paragon, he’d do anything for her, even die for her. It terrified her. It was why she pushed him so far away for so long. But lately … he’d argued with her, laughed with her, cried with her. Like she was a real person. Like they were real.

Somewhere beneath all that posturing and devil-may-care debonair attitude was the boy she agreed to date. A sensitive, intelligent, entirely too clingy and possessive, overworked, depressed, passionate perfect boy. As much as she yearned to know his face, his name, she wanted to know it on her own terms. She wanted to discover him as he had discovered her.

Maybe he wanted that too.

 

\---

 

Adrien stiffened as Marinette burst through the door. Ms. Bustier stopped mid-sentence, chalk hanging from her fingers, and the same girl who had been clinging to him in her sleep, begging him not to leave, turned crimson. His heart almost felt like it would burst, and hell, there was no way his face wasn’t screaming for her to look his way. She rambled out excuses about bakery mayhem and cheese, and Nino scooted closer to him,

“Check your phone.”

“Have you ever tried _not_ texting during class?” Adrien whispered back, even as he dutifully tapped his phone inside the cubby of his desk.

**Dudebro: Marinette kind of freaked on Alya yesterday when she learned you figured out about the whole anxiety thing, bro. I know you have been making progress with the whole friends’ thing but I think Alya is still trying to smooth things over. So, like, maybe give her some space today.**

Adrien blinked at the message and then shot Nino a scowl.

**Can you break that down in a way that makes more sense?**

Marinette gave Ms. Bustier a breathy laugh and walked up the steps to her seat. Adrien blushed despite himself, trying to studiously stare at the board.

“Why do you even bother if you’re just going to be late?” Chloe asked, waving her hand. “Hello, disruption to the class much? Just catch up on sleep or something.”

“Lay off Chloe,” Alya rumbled, as Marinette sat. “Unlike someone, Marinette actually has a job.”

“Oh, spare me the pity party,” Chloe droned. “Adrien works _way_ harder and he came on time.”

Adrien sighed, wondering why the whole universe was dead-set on stacking the odds against him. Whatever Chloe’s beef with Marinette, he knew snapping at her about it would only make it worse for Marinette when he wasn’t around and he had a feeling Marinette would take exception to him white-knighting over childish insults. Was it too much to ask that his friends actually like each other?

“This is exactly what I was talking about,” Ms. Bustier emphasized, tapping the board. “The Montagues and Capulets have sworn to their feud because they do not understand the other party. Whatever began it has vanished and yet they still cling to their anger with no idea that their adversaries are actually just like them.”

Adrien’s phone buzzed, just as Chloe huffed and crossed her arms.

“So, you’re saying Chloe and Marinette are Romeo and Juliet?” Kim asked, giving Max a high-five. “Damn, I can get down with that.”

The class all started talking over each other and Adrien rolled his eyes, reading Nino’s message.

**Dudebro: Alya’s just worried; I swear she always is. But Marinette’s been way weird lately. They used to call each other on the phone everyday and hang out but now Marinette is always busy. Yesterday, she told us she needed ‘space’ after she got angry and Alya’s worried she offended her.**

Adrien thought about last night and Marinette’s sudden claim to him, her sudden request. Was this why she wanted to solidify things between them? He had been so wrapped up in whatever the hell was happening between them that he hadn't even noticed the two pulling away.It upset him to think that he was somehow separating them, especially with how much they loved each other. After all, it was Alya, not her parents, who Marinette wanted approval from. But it only made sense. Marinette sucked at lying and unless she bottled things up, she’d spill out everything. With how duty-bound she was, she'd do anything to protect his identity, even distance herself from her friends. Maybe she was just as tired of keeping secrets as he was.

**I think she’s just formulating what to say. There is no way they would hate each other.**

**Dudebro: Yeah, that’s what I told her. Didn’t stop her spending the whole day at my house sobbing over my ipod while playing breakup music bro. Girls are confusing.**

It struck Adrien that this normal compliant about his girlfriend, the type he would say aloud with that dopey smile on his face, was something that Adrien himself could experience. That, right now, both of them were talking about their girlfriends. That eventually they could gush over them together.

“If anything, Marinette and Chloe would be Tybalt and Romeo,” Ms. Bustier finally concluded, which only raised up more chaos. “But we are getting off subject. Try to focus.”

Adrien was probably already too involved, especially considering everyone else only knew him as Nino’s incredibly invested friend and nothing more. Yet he couldn’t contain his curiosity.

**What happened between them?**

“I know Romeo and Juliet has been done over and over again and everyone is tired of it. So, you’ll be relieved to know we will _not_ be reenacting the play for our class project. Reading will be done at home and we’ll debate the meaning of the text each day until we finish the act.”

“That’s so boring, ugh, what about support of the arts?” Chloe protested, despite the fact that Adrien knew damn well she thought Romeo and Juliet was boring and lame.

“Dude, even if we did the play you wouldn’t be Juliet,” Alix teased. “Why are you so upset?”

“Well, who _else_ would be Juliet? _I’m_ obviously the prettiest one here!”

**Dudebro: Look, bro, I gotta stop this gossip ring somewhere. If you really want to know you gotta ask Alya or Marinette, okay? All I’m saying is that Marinette isn’t too happy about the fact that you know she has anxiety. I mean, I kind of get it cuz it’s not like she ever told anyone about it, we all kind of just know, but she thought you didn’t.**

“Juleka would definitely be Juliet,” Marinette argued firmly, after Alya insisted she would be great in the rule. “You know I don’t like acting and I can’t remember lines to save my life.”

“For the last time, we are not doing a play,” Ms. Bustier sighed, palming her forehead, looking as tired and frazzled as she ought to be. “One more disruption and I’ll make us start reading right here in class and you had better believe I will make you switch word-for-word through the whole first act.”

The class grimaced at the threat, which was probably the worst punishment Ms. Bustier would ever come up with and yet so much worse than other teacher. Satisfied, with their silence, the teacher went on describing the different roles in the play.

Adrien read Nino’s text again. The answer disappointed him, but Nino was right, and he was glad someone was acknowledging how nosy their group had become.

**Okay, okay. I’ll do my best to give them some space to work it out first. Message received.**

**Dudebro: You the man, bro. Wanna ditch school at lunch and get some chili fries?**

Adrien bit his lip, thinking that sounded like the coolest thing in the world even knowing that his schedule would fill up with some random job because of it. As well as another sternly worded lecture on food and school choices. He swallowed, rising to the bait anyway, wondering if his father would hammer one more nail into the coffin of his trust.

**Sounds good. I feel bad for Ms. Bustier; let’s talk later.**

“So, class distinction, gender, family, are all things that get touched on in the work,” Ms. Bustier continued. “And since we already spent time going into themes of love with our fairy tale unit, I thought we might try to focus on empathy and understanding for our Shakespeare project. This will be a partner assignment with an essay and presentation component.”

The class, for the most part, had quieted to their normal whispers.

“Girl, we’re gonna own this,” Alya whispered behind him. “Partners?”

“I wouldn’t pick anyone else,” Marinette whispered back. Adrien shot Nino a grin and they gave each other a thumbs up. Maybe he could use this as an excuse to actually hang out with his friends. Ms. Bustier said it would be due in five weeks, which meant potentially hours of study time.

“You will be performing a monologue as your partner for the class,” Ms. Bustier described, looking more enthusiastic by the minute. “Based on a script you have written from the material gathered from you essay about their daily life. Themes of family and traditions will be encouraged.”

“Sabrina, you must feel honored to perform as my fabulous self,” Chloe laughed. “I’m sure our project will get the best grade; how can everyone not be impressed with myself?”

“I-I will try my best!” Sabrina declared, looking ready to faint.  

“Oh, there is one thing I forgot to mention,” Ms. Bustier called out, stopping all the similar promises of friendship being uttered across the room. “Your partner has already been selected for you.”

Adrien flinched, suddenly not feeling so bad for his English teacher anymore.

 

\---

 

Marinette’s stomach dropped. There was no doubt in her mind that Ms. Bustier paired her with Chloe. She was always talking about how they needed to understand each other and this little buddy-buddy assignment seemed like the perfect trap. God, she could already imagine Chloe making fun of her in front of the class while _pretending_ to act as her.

“This sucks,” Alya grumbled, leaning on her hand. “Just give us our sentence already, don’t leave us sitting here waiting! You probably systematically picked the worst possible pairings, didn’t you?”

“There is no worst pairing in this class, Miss Cesaire,” Ms. Bustier defended primly. “I have selected your partners based on your lifestyles and backgrounds. You will have some similarities that will bring you together and differences you have to over come.”

“Doubt it,” Marinette sighed, staring at Chloe. The heiress was staring right back at her, with an equal look of dread. Marinette tried to give her a small smile and Chloe lifted her nose with a, “hmph!”

“The first pair is Nino and Rose,” Ms. Bustier said and watching the two grimace at each other as they me their partner’s face was just a hint of the hell about to occur.

“Sabrina and Max.”

Marinette’s palms were sweaty, even though she knew just how this would play out.

“Alya and Chloe.”

_Oh, no,_ she gave Alya a look of sympathy, even as relief took her. Alya hated Chloe, but she could suck it up if need be. She'd told Marinette before about learning to keep her head low if needed; that she had learned to deal with ignorant and entitled people from her hardworking mother. Marinette envied her way of composing herself, wishing she too could hold herself back when the fight wasn't worth it. She tried to soothe herself, grateful that Chloe was no longer an option. Even if she hated sharing and public speaking was awkward, at least her classmates were nice and friendly people. Ms. Bustier continued going down the list and the longer it took for the teacher to say her name, the more her dread rose.

Because she had forgotten about Lila.

“Oh, I forgot to mention, Lila has to go abroad again for her mother’s nature work,” Ms. Bustier interrupted. “So she will be doing an essay based on her pen-pal Prince Ali.”

_Oh, thank god,_ Marinette breathed, gripping the edge of her desk. _Thank fucking god._

“Wow, I bet her performance will be great!” Rose sighed. Marinette took in the rest of the class and their begrudging acceptance to their partner. Then she realized the only other name Ms. Bustier had yet to call. Like a karma, terrible, ironic karma, her crush was turning to look at her with that stupidly perfect smile on his face as he realized the same thing she had.

“That leaves Marinette and Adrien,” Ms. Bustier finished, folding her list.

“Partners?” He held out his hand for her to shake. Something about that pose, his upturned smile, that glint in his eyes, sent her into a panic. Because for a moment, with her sleep deprived brain, she saw Chat Noir grinning up at her, waiting for that fist bump as they took down yet another akuma. Then she saw Adrien, his mouth relaxing into a frown, as he started lowering his hand, a question in his eyes. Her throat tightened and she wondered how long it would be until her hormone-addled brain would let him go.

“Oh, come on, that’s not even fair!” Chloe protested for her, enraged. “Everyone knows—”

Then Chloe stopped herself, lips pouting out as she silently fumed, completely uncharacteristic for her entitled classmate. For all that Chloe hated her, she had _never_ said anything about Marinette’s feelings to Adrien, for which Marinette was extremely grateful. It was one of the only things that kept Marinette from hating her back. She wondered if Chloe, with all her confidence and privilege, knew what it was like to have a boy reject her. If she really wasn’t as terrible as she pretended to be. Adrien had a sad look on his face as he watched Chloe stop talking and he sighed, the only sound in the now awkwardly silent classroom. Then the bell rang for their next period.

The rest of the class was making their way to a partner’s desk, and Alya lingered for a moment, touching Marinette’s shoulder before she walked over to Chloe and the two relocated to the hallway.

“If it makes you uncomfortable, I can ask Ms. Bustier to switch,” Adrien said quietly, shoulders almost hunching as he looked toward the floor. “It shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“I don’t mind,” she rushed out. “Uh, I mean, working with you, that is. She probably won’t switch us anyway. Not that I want to switch, you’re great. To work with.”

Her voice trailed off as she wrung her fingers, no doubt looking like a total idiot.

“You’re great to work with too,” Adrien spoke up, placing his hand over hers. Marinette watched him untangle her fingers, transfixed by the way his fingers caressed hers. He placed her palm against the desk and released her hand and she could have sworn his face was pink.

“Don’t worry. I know I’m hard to catch but I’m sure I can ask my dad about moving my schedule around. I’d love to see your parents working at the bakery … if you don’t mind.”

Right, because that would involve Adrien at her house. Talking to her parents. Interacting with her. Writing a report about her and pretending to be her. While she did the same with him. A month ago she would have killed for this opportunity. Now, she didn’t know what to think.

“I don’t mind,” she mumbled, itching to fidget again. But she left her hands in place, desperate to seem normal. “Um, do you think it will be okay seeing your job with all that hashtag stuff going on?”

“It’ll be fine,” he soothed, but his gaze didn’t quite meet hers. She wondered what he thought about all this. Being partners with the awkward girl with anxiety problems probably hadn’t been his plan when he woke up today. But she couldn’t imagine him partnered with anyone else besides Nino anyway. Of course, he was pleasant and he would do fine, but it was hard to imagine all the same. He was almost intangible. As unreal as any other celebrity on billboards.

Nino made it seem like he was hiding things about himself and she wasn’t sure she wanted to find out what those things were. Not if it meant getting sucked back into the hole that was her crush on him. Even with all the weird drama around him lately, she couldn't imagine anything he hid that would make her dislike him. 

“W-Well, I’m a bit busy today, but Thursday is okay,” she offered. “So, I can tell my parents…”

“Sure, I’ll check if that’s okay,” he answered swiftly, as if he were … excited? Maybe he was really into pastries? He always seemed happy when she brought treats from home for the class. He was typing quickly in his phone, slightly biting his lip, his hair tousled perfectly over his brow, and she held in a sigh. Lord, he was so god damned pretty. Those damn lashes of his and bright eyes; no wonder he was a model. She could stare at him for hours.

“Uh, Marinette, your number?” He ventured, brow rising.

“UHHH right, because you totally need that!”

“It might make things easier, yeah,” he teased, smiling like his goddamned posters. It took her far too long to reply. And even longer to blurt her number out. 

_I’m doomed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm so so sorry for disappearing for a bit. Holidays are a tough time of year for me and this year especially so. Happy Holidays for those of you who had a happy time with their family. And to those who didn't, just know you aren't alone and I hope this silly fanfic brightens your day a bit. 
> 
> Onto, actual chapter commentary. For those interested here are the rest of the class pairings: Ivan-Alix, Nathaniel-Kim, Juleka-Mylene. Lila's by herself because, idk she doesn't feel like a part of the class anyway. And we already dealt with Lila taking over a whole arc haha. 
> 
> Sabine was fun to write and I hope she'll be able to show up more. Tikki's interesting as always; her and Marinette need a long pow-wow to figure shit out. It was a lot fun writing the multiple plots overlaying each other but it's probably a mess to read, sorry fam. I'm interested to hear responses about this new arc and all the red herrings in this roller-coaster chapter. 
> 
> Romeo and Juliet class play trope, haha, you thought. Would I ever be so predictable? Actually, just kidding, class project trope, this IS fanfic. Marinette being painfully ignorant of her cat boyfriend, Alya waiting for some sort of sign from her BFF that things are cool, Nino trying keep the peace, and Adrien thinking the universe is against him when actually this is all playing in to his favor. 
> 
> (*•̀ᴗ•́*)و ̑̑ I'll make sure the next chapter comes without extra delay. Stay strong readers!

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, thanks for reading, I'm new to the whole fanfic scene but thought it would be fun to share my own interpretation of the characters and my interests. I keep up with the show but the fic is primarily based on representations from season 1. That being said, don't be surprised when characters and events from future seasons are referenced. Enjoy!~


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